


Home

by zebraljb



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:45:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 72,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Connor and Murphy meet at school, with hate at first sight and Smecker as the best RA EVER.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

HOME  
One

1988

 

“Connor, you’re sure about this?”

“Ma, it’s a little late.” Connor looked at the train huffing on the track behind them. “I’m about ta get on tha train.”

“My boy.” In a rare moment of tenderness, Annabelle Flanery reached up to stroke her sixteen-year-old son’s hair. “I’m proud of ya, Connor. Never forget it.”

“I won’t, Ma. Especially since ya’ve been goin’ on an’ on about this for weeks.” But the tan skin turned rosy red with blushes. 

“I just can’t believe it. M’boy, goin’ ta a prep school in America.” She took a deep breath and shoved the tender feelings down and away. “Ya got all your papers an’ everythin’?”

“Yes, Ma, I swear. I’ll staple ‘em ta me head if it’ll make ya happy.”

“Ya just do me proud an’ I’ll be happy,” she told him. The conductor motioned for Connor. “Ya better go. Write ta me. God knows when I’ll be seein’ ya again.” She kissed his cheeks and ruffled his hair one last time. “I love ya, me boy.”

“Love ya, too, Ma,” he said, his throat constricting. He gave her a strong hug and turned away without another look.

“Be careful,” she said, but of course he didn’t hear her. He was striding off to a new life in America.

 

Once Connor was safely settled on the train, he opened his new backpack and pulled out the folder from St. John’s Preparatory School. He wasn’t looking forward to going to yet another Catholic school, but it was America. It would HAVE to be better than the rundown school he had attended in Ireland. The students on the brochure looked healthy and happy. The campus looked well cared for, with a lot of trees and benches and flowers. He couldn’t help but gulp as he looked at the tuition amount for that year. Eight thousand dollars was a lot of money, especially for someone like him, coming from a very rural town in Ireland.

Connor and his mother had been as poor as someone could possibly be without being on the government aid list. Ma had done cleaning and washing by day and worked as a barmaid in his uncle’s bar at night. Connor had to do with handed down clothes from his cousins, and even his school supplies were secondhand. He would never forget the day he came home to find his mother crying into her apron on a kitchen chair, hours before she was due to come home from work.

“Ma? Ma!” Connor had thrown down his school things, falling to his knees at his mother’s feet. “Are ya okay? Is it Gram? One of tha uncles?”

“No, Connor. Shut up, ya little shit.” His Ma had wiped away her tears and looked at him, wrinkled eyes glimmering with delight. “Yer Great-Uncle Reardon died.”

“Oh.” He pondered this. “We’re happy about it?”

Ma actually laughed, a sound Connor rarely heard. “Not really; ya only met him once an’ ya were only four years old. He was quite well off…started off minin’ an’ then ended up buyin’ his own pit…made a fortune. Never married, never had kids.” She put a hand on Connor’s shoulders. “He left us everythin’.”

“Well, uh, how much is everythin’, exactly?” Ma named an amount that made Connor sit down hard on his ass. “Holy fuck,” he mumbled, and she was still too shocked to correct him.

“Everythin’” was enough to pay off the rest of the mortgage on their sorry little hovel. It was enough to buy a third-hand car for Ma to use, so she no longer had to take the bus. She refused to move, however; it was too much fun for her to put on airs as a lady with a fortune, as she put it. She did give in and buy Connor new schoolbooks and some clothing, but otherwise she hoarded every penny. For once in her miserable life she was completely unselfish: Connor was going to go away to a good school so he could get into a good university and make something of himself. He wasn’t going to end up like his good for nothing father, who had left them three days after Connor was born, never to return.

So here Connor was, sitting on a train headed for Dublin, going off to school in America. He had a list of items he would need for school, and he had two extra days to shop before his flight left for Boston. Chicago, he corrected himself. His flight went from Dublin to Chicago to Boston. He had looked it up on his school’s atlas; it seemed odd to fly west of the place he actually had to go, but who understood things like flight schedules and airlines, anyway?

He looked down at the brochure in his hands. The students in the brochure looked like they understood such things, and that was the one thing that scared Connor most. What if he wouldn’t fit in with these obviously rich coeds? He could buy the right clothes, learn to say the right things, but what if they made fun of him for his dark skin, tanned by hours of working in a field to make extra money, or tease him for his obviously low class accent? Right then and there Connor Flanery made himself a vow. By the time he made it to university, no one would know who he was or what he came from.


	2. Chapter 2

HOME  
Two

1988

 

“Hey, why don’t you crawl back into that dumpster you came out of this morning?”

“Don’t they sell needles and thread back in _Ireland_?”

“Bet they don’t have hot water, either!”

“Hot water…hell, bet they don’t have running water!”

Murphy MacManus ducked as a stone went flying by his head. He said nothing, just continued walking down the sidewalk. He refused to run, and didn’t want to fight yet again. He hunched down in his threadbare denim jacket and tried not to seem like he was hurrying.

“Aw, let the chickenshit go. He’s no fun when he doesn’t fight back.”

“What a fucking coward.”

He heard the footsteps fall away and almost sighed with relief. The tension left his shoulders and he straightened up a bit.

“Why do ya let them go after ya like that?”

The all too familiar voice made him stop in his tracks. He slowly turned around and saw the man with the graying beard and hair. “Da…”

“Ya almost make me ashamed that yer me son.” Malachy MacManus moved from the wall he leaned against. “If I didn’t know that ya could fight three men at once, if I hadn’t trained ya these last sixteen years…”

“Da, please don’t.” Murphy felt himself hunch back down again. “I didn’t want ta fight today.”

“Didn’t want ta fight?” Da grabbed Murphy by a tuft of his dark hair and pulled his face up. “Ya look like m’son.”

“I am an’ ya know it,” he said angrily. “I just didn’t want ta get inta it today. I know all the kids hate me. I’m okay with it. But I don’t feel like gettin’ bitched at by another one o’ their parents, or gettin’ called into tha office because someone said I was makin’ eyes at their girl. I’m tired of it, Da.”

“They wouldn’t dare do that, not ta my son.”

Murphy sighed. “Da, I like doin’ what we do. I like seein’ what we see. But not everyone knows ya or what ya can do. Most o’ tha time I just say that you’re a salesman…no need tryin’ to explain, especially since we’re never in a place for long.” Murphy rubbed at the back of his neck.

His father’s eyes softened. “Aye, we’re on tha run a lot. I’m sorry for that, Murphy.” Murphy’s eyes widened at the unexpected apology. Da nudged him and they headed for home. “Why do ya think they hate ya?”

“It’s a white town, Da. White and rich. Poor Irishmen don’t quite fit in.”

“You’re not poor. Never think that,” Da snapped.

“Ya know what I mean, Da. That kinda thing doesn’t go over so well in your average American high school.” Murphy shrugged and kicked at a stone. “I’m all right. This doesn’t happen as much anymore.”

“Because ya’ve got a reputation now.” Da was proud and it showed.

“Yeah.” Murphy kicked the stone again. “But I promised Sister Ruth I wouldn’t be fightin’.”

“Not fight!” Da gasped.

“Not forever. She just had this lesson about self-control. Asked us ta try an’ give up somethin’ that’d be hard ta do without. I chose fightin’. We had ta write it on a card an’ let her have it. No one else knows.” He shrugged again. “I like Sister Ruth, Da. She’s nice, an’ she don’t judge. I want ta try ta do this. My self-control isn’t so strong.”

“So those boys think you’re a coward?”

Murphy nodded. “Fuck ‘em.”

Da smiled. “That’s m’boy.”

 

Murphy waited through the long evening, patiently listening for his father’s snores in the one bedroom. He leaned off the sofa, digging under it until he pulled an envelope from the dust.

“I want you to just think about it, Murphy,” Sister Ruth had said, handing him the envelope. “There are a lot of options for you financially.”

Murphy had blushed and disappeared, not even opening the envelope until now. Sister Ruth was the nicest teacher he had ever met, even if she was a nun. He usually only got to complete one school year before they moved, sometimes not even that. He wished they could stay a bit longer, until he graduated, but he had a funny feeling they’d be on the move again soon.

He slid the envelope open, holding it up to the light from the streetlamp outside. He didn’t dare turn on a light; his father was a light sleeper. “Bedrin University…a place ta discover your future,” he read out loud, and snorted with laughter. “How lame.”

He read down a bit further and stopped laughing. The brochures and pamphlets made it look like paradise on Earth, at least to Murphy. Happy faces, clean clothes, manicured lawns. The type of thing that Murphy only saw out the window of a bus as they moved to another town, another set of jeering faces.

He picked up a piece of lined paper. “Murphy, I hope you don’t mind that I got you this information. You have potential to be something great. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. This school has an excellent scholarship program, and even if you don’t get something like that, they also have a program where you can work on campus to earn your room and board. I attended this school.” Murphy looked up. He supposed she wasn’t BORN a nun. “I hope you will at least think about it, and if you like, I will speak with your father.” Murphy snorted again. Fat chance. “I’d like to help you in any way necessary. Sister Ruth.”

Murphy folded everything and slid it under the sofa. He lay back, one arm under his head. University. Something he had never even dreamed of, but now he couldn’t get it out of his head. He knew he was smart enough; hell, he had met up with more than one idiot who had letters after his name. He didn’t really know anyone who had gone to college; most of his social time was spent with his father and other Irish expatriates, hence his thick Irish accent.

Murphy closed his eyes, remembering a woman’s voice cooing Gaelic lullabies. He doubted it was his mother; since his Da refused to talk about her. He assumed she had died or left when he was small. Da called the woman in his memory Aunt Colleen, though he wondered if she was less a relative and more his father’s occasional girlfriend. She had taken care of him until he was five, however, and was the only feminine influence he could remember. He slowly drifted to sleep, originally remembering Aunt Colleen, but soon dreaming of striding across a college campus.


	3. Chapter 3

HOME  
Three

1990

 

“Connor, you have my address, right?” The girl with the long blond hair clutched at his arm. “You didn’t lose it?”

“Of course not,” he said, putting an arm around her and kissing her hair. “It’s imbedded in my brain,” he promised. 

“I’ll miss you so much.” Alexis Colten gave him a tight hug. “I’m so glad we met at that dance.”

“Yes, it’s been fun.” He gave her a brilliant smile and slowly shoved her away. “Look, I need to go finish packing, okay? I’ll talk to you sometime soon.”

“Connor.” Before he could stop her, she placed both hands on his neck, pulled him down and gave him a passionate kiss. The three friends who waited for him chuckled.

“Uh, bye, Alexis.” Connor fought the urge to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. At least he could wait until she was out of sight.

“Bye,” she said, blushing. She glared at his friends and darted down the sidewalk.

“Fuck,” Connor said angrily when she was out of earshot. He scrubbed at his mouth. “Damn hussy.”

“Aw, c’mon, Con.” Jamie Bennett chucked him in the shoulder. “Not her fault that you’re such a heartthrob. Not her fault that…”

“I’m gay as the day is long?” Connor snapped. Jamie frowned, feeling the unspoken rebuke. “I gotta pack.”

“Need help?” Another boy piped up. “My brother’s coming to help me bring my stuff down. I know he’ll help you if I ask him.”

Connor’s smile was pleased, a complete turnaround from the attitude he had given Jamie. “Sure, Frankie, thanks. I appreciate that.”

Connor sauntered up the stairs of the dorm with Jamie, Frankie and Jeff Winston dead on his heels. He was the leader of their little clique of friends, if not the leader of the whole damn senior class at St. John’s. Connor flopped on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Little holes dotted the flat surface, evidence of many other boys who had occupied that room in years past, marring the ceiling with thumbtacks and posters. Connor sighed.

“You okay?” Jamie said cautiously.

“Yeah. You know what? Why don’t you guys go on back to your rooms. I know you have packing to do, and I can catch up with you later.” He looked at Frankie. “Let me know when your bro comes, okay?”

“Sure, Connor, sure thing.” The boys said their goodbyes and Connor was finally alone.

He pulled the tie from around his neck and tossed it to the floor. He also dug into his jacket pocket and tossed out something else: Alexis Colten’s phone number. He ground the heel of his dress shoe against the small slip of paper until it ripped. Grinning, he shoved more things to the side and lay down flat on his back.

Probably every boy over the age of fourteen would have killed for that piece of paper. Alexis Colten was the queen bee of St. John’s sister school, St. Mary’s, and she was also the only child of a very rich, very influential CEO. She was beautiful, and she was smart, but she was also boring. Add to that the fact that Connor had absolutely no interest in girls…

Connor was surprised at how quickly every single thing about him had been accepted at this school. Granted, he didn’t exactly go about flaunting his sexuality, especially at an all-Catholic prep school, but he had quickly felt out who in the group of boys would most easily accept it, and that’s who he chose as his friends. He was friendly to everyone, but Jamie, Jeff and that tagalong Frankie were his true inner circle. 

Ma had always said that he could charm the wings off a fly and the petals off a rose, and here in America it had definitely been proven. He charmed other boys into doing his homework, though he was passing all his classes on his own. He charmed the teachers into letting him out of assignments, and charmed the girls at St. Mary’s just enough to make it look good. He had lost the Irish accent almost completely after these few years in the States, though he brought it out now and then to really get what he wanted, if he wasn’t getting it through the regular measures. Not that it happened often.

Connor grinned and toed off his shoes, grateful that he wouldn’t need a uniform in college. He had been so scared coming to this expensive preparatory school, worried that everyone would shun him for who and what he was. The interesting thing was that he was such an unknown factor, such an enigma, that it soon turned him into a hot commodity. Add in the fact that he came from a place so few of them had been, and he soon became the person that everyone wanted to know. He was definitely the smartest, funniest, sexiest person there…or at least that’s what everyone told him. And Connor let himself believe it. If he wasn’t made for this, then why did everyone follow him? Why did they allow him to bully them into what he wanted if he didn’t deserve it? Connor frowned slightly. College, of course, would be different. Big fish, but bigger pond. He wouldn’t be so new and exciting at Bedrin University, but he’d make a name for himself. He was sure of that.

His phone rang, startling him. “This is Connor.”

“Connor? That you?”

“Hi, Ma,” he said, his thick brogue returning almost instantly. He couldn’t hide it from his mother. She would always see him as her son, and he couldn’t betray her by acting like something he wasn’t. Not after the way she had carefully hoarded the money to keep him where he was.

“I just wanted ta make sure ya got what ya need ta come home.”

“Aye,” Connor said. “Got me tickets an’ all. I’ll be home on Friday. Then back on a plane in August ta come back.”

“Ya sure ya don’t want ta go ta school here in Ireland?”

“Ma, we’ve had this conversation.” There was no fucking way he was moving back to Ireland for good. “Tha school I’m going ta will be best for me. Has tha classes I want an’ all.”

“My boy. Workin’ in law.” Her pride was so evident that he blushed. He was glad she couldn’t see him, see what he really was.

“We’ll see about that, Ma. I might flunk.”

“If you flunk out, I’ll beat yer fuckin’ arse from here to Sunday,” she growled. He laughed, expecting that answer.

“I’ll see ya in a few days, Ma. Love ya.” He hung up and looked at his trashed dorm room. He picked up the phone again. “Frankie, it’s Connor. How about you and I spend our last few hours together packing my things?”

 

“Look at that loser.” Jimmy laughed as he watched a freshman walk down the street on his way home from school. “Is that a briefcase?”

“Aye, I think it is.” Murphy took a last drag on his cigarette and tossed it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “Another Bill Gates, that one. Mebbe he could teach ya a few things, huh, Jimmy me boy? Like how ta add one plus one.”

“Shut up,” Jimmy said, blushing. He hated the fact that he couldn’t even pass ninth grade math and he was in his last year of high school.

“What’re you up to tonight, Murph? Couple of parties look interesting,” Daniel Brock said. Murphy shrugged.

“True. Gotta fill out some extra stuff for college. Then mebbe we could meet up or somethin’.” He nodded with his chin. “Any one ya got in mind?”

“That one by the river sounds good,” Danny suggested.

“Don’t know that I feel like walkin’ all tha way down there tonight,” Murphy said, just to be contradictory.

“Well, we could…”

“Just kiddin’. Why don’t we meet here at eight? Party should be in full swing by then.” Murphy pushed himself up from where he leaned against a chain link fence. “Bring somethin’ with ya, okay? I don’t get paid ‘til next week.”

“Dad just got a case. I’ll grab a few,” Jimmy suggested. Murphy nodded his approval. 

“Be seein’ ya later, then.” Murphy turned and walked away without waiting for their goodbyes. He headed in the direction of the freshman. He jogged the last few steps and caught up with the slender boy, tossing an arm around his shoulders. “How ya doin’, lad?”

The boy did a double take as he recognized Murphy. “H-hi. I’m okay.”

“That’s good. What’s yer name?”

“Eric.”

“Eric. What’s with tha bag?” He nudged the briefcase with his knee.

“Well, I have…uh…important homework…and I don’t like it when it’s wrinkled.”

“I see.” Murphy nodded, then leaned his head in. “It kinda makes ya look like a wimp, carryin’ that thin’.”

“I…I know.” The boy’s face turned red. Murphy looked around to make sure no one he knew was in the area. He remembered far too well the days of boys running behind him and throwing things. 

“Ya might do better ta just handle tha wrinkles an’ buy what everyone else has, Eric. Understand me?” Eric nodded hard. “An’ if ya tell anyone we had this little talk, I will beat ya so hard you’ll be fittin’ in your bag here. Understand?” Eric nodded again. Murphy gave him a less than gentle shove. “On yer way, then.” Eric ran down the sidewalk. Murphy sighed and turned in the direction of his own home.

He smiled at the fear in Eric’s big eyes. He had been that boy just a few years before. He had fought hard against anyone who provoked him, but he was once the one who everyone was after. Now, in this town, he was the one that everyone was afraid of. In the two years since leaving the last town, Murphy had grown three inches, gained pounds of muscle, and had actually helped his Da kill a man. It was a rumor that had immediately followed him to town, that he was a murderer, but it lingered more in the realm of whispered rumor than true fact. He had convinced Da to stay in one place and stay quasi-legal, just until he could get his diploma and get into that college.

Da didn’t understand college. He didn’t need it; why should Murph? Murphy said the same thing every time the subject came up. He didn’t want to have to live by his fists the rest of his life. Da was getting old, and Murphy saw it. Sure, his father was still the best shot he had ever seen, and could still do amazing things with a knife, but the years on the road were starting to take its toll. Murphy refused to end up like that.

He also often thought about Sister Ruth, and her letter. It was taped together from all the times he had folded and unfolded it. She had faith in him. No one had ever treated him that way. He felt like he owed her something, though if she knew just what he had become, she’d probably be a little upset. He offered up a silent prayer on her behalf before unlocking the front door of their small house.

“Da?” He yelled. His father had gotten a factory job, where Murphy worked on weekends. Apparently Da wasn’t home yet, because Murphy’s voice echoed through the tiny house. Murphy headed for his bedroom (this house actually had two), tossing his jacket as he went. His stomach and chest were lean and muscular under the tight black t-shirt. He flopped onto the bed, grabbing at an envelope as he went down. 

Murphy carefully tugged out the letter and stared at it, not believing it even after all these months. “Congratulations, Murphy Kevin MacManus. You have been accepted into the 1990 freshman class at Bedrin University.” Murphy had never really felt “accepted” into anything, but here it was, in black and white. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the letter, then glanced at his closet. He fought the pull, then gave in. He opened the closet and stared at the shirts and sweaters and jeans. Nothing fancy, but it was new. New for him and for his new life at college. College. His friends here couldn’t even spell the word, but he was going.


	4. Chapter 4

HOME  
Four

 

“Holy fuck.” Murphy closed his eyes and bit down on his bottom lip as the trunk landed on his sneaker. He saw stars and fireworks as he winced.

“Need some help with that?” Murphy’s eyes flew open. A tall red-haired boy stood in front of him. “If you’re in Monroe, I’ll help carry yours up and then we can come back for mine?”

“Aye, I’m livin’ here.” Murphy motioned to the dorm. “Why don’t we take yours up first? Nothin’ in mine that I’ll miss if it’s stolen.”

The boy chuckled. “That’s a positive attitude ya got there. Stephen Royal. Well, Steve.” He held out his hand.

“Murphy MacManus. Good ta know ya.” He slipped both arms through his backpack and settled it in place, watching Steve do the same. They each took an end of the trunk, grunting as they lifted. “Love ta know why tha fuck they put tha freshman on tha top floor.”

“To teach us a lesson, probably. Hey, what’s with the accent?” Steve groaned as he saw the line for the elevator. “You look strong. Can we do the stairs?”

“I don’t want ta wait for tha lift. Let’s go up.” Murphy got a better hold on the trunk. “M’Irish. Haven’t lived there for a long time, but me Da always hung around other Irishmen…accent stuck.”

“Girls’ll fall over you for that. Wish I had an accent. No, all I have is hair the color of tomato soup.”

Murphy chuckled, almost losing the trunk as he made the turn in the stairwell. “Where ya at?”

“Uh, four-twelve.”

Murphy stumbled over his feet. “Yer shittin’ me. Me, too.”

Steve looked over his shoulder and smiled. “That’s great. I was so afraid I’d get stuck with some dick for a roommate.”

“Well, I’m sure I can be a dick now an’ then,” Murphy said, returning his grin.

“As long as you don’t start fucking girls in your bed at three in the morning, when I’m trying to sleep, I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

“Well, ya have no worries there,” Murphy muttered to himself.

 

“Connor! Connor Flanery!” 

Connor turned around curiously, wondering who here could possibly know him. He rolled his eyes as Frankie came running up. “What’re you doing here, Frank? I thought you were going to school in New York.”

“I wanted to surprise you…thought it would be nice.” The other boy looked at him eagerly. “You’re in Monroe? Me, too! It’d be great if we were roommates, huh?”

“That’d be nice, true, but I got a single. My allergies and all.” Connor gave a pathetic sniff. Actually, it had taken a bit of palm greasing, but he made sure he had a single. He didn’t someone nosing around in his life. He wanted privacy. 

Connor frowned as he looked at Frank. Originally he had felt a bit of disappointment when he saw the familiar face. He wanted a new start here at Bedrin. As he thought about it, however, he realized that it might be good to bring someone along with him who knew his reputation at the old school. He could spread the word about Connor, and soon Connor could find his place in the new school as easily as he had taken it at the old one.

“I didn’t know you had allergies,” Frankie said.

“Aye,” Connor said, wiping at his nose. “Brought them with me from Ireland, I think. It takes a certain thing to start them up, so I thought it best that I didn’t share with someone.”

“Right,” Frankie said, nodding.

“Your brother around? Could use the muscle getting this stuff upstairs.” Connor motioned to his luggage.

“No, they left already. I’ll help you.”

“Great,” Connor said, shouldering his backpack and grabbing the heaviest of the suitcases. No need to have Frankie drop it.

They merged into the stream of students and family, finally making their way to the elevator. The doors closed in front of them, but Connor was relieved. They’d be first on the next car. He chatted casually with Frankie until the doors opened and they headed for the fourth floor.

“Oh, I’m down at the other end,” Frankie said in disappointment. Connor clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other around, Frank. Thanks again for your help.” He turned around and ran into someone. “Fuck! Watch where you’re going!” He rubbed his thigh where it had been clipped by the edge of a trunk.

“Fuck yerself. We’re tha ones with tha fuckin’ trunk. Ya blind or somethin’?”

Connor blinked at the familiar brogue. It belonged to a man with pale skin and dark hair. His eyes were dark and blue, with no smile lines or friendliness around them. The boy was muscular, wearing a pair of faded, torn jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Connor made his eyes pull away up from the spread of the t-shirt over the smooth chest.

“I can’t imagine you have clothes in that trunk, if you run around dressed like that,” he scoffed, unable to think of anything better to say.

The boy laughed. “Well, Steve, would ya look at that. Mr. High an’ Mighty lost his way. The tea party’s over in tha girls’ dorm, me boy.” His redheaded friend snickered.

“Get out of my way. I’m not your BOY,” Connor snapped.

The dark haired boy nodded and his friend started walking again. “But dontcha wish ya were my boy?” He gave Connor a wink as he went on down the hall. Connor actually blushed. He turned on one heel without another word to Frankie, and went down to find his room.

 

“Wonder what his problem was,” Steve said as they dropped Murphy’s trunk on the floor by Murphy’s bed. 

“Rich kid. Thinks he owns tha world,” Murphy said wisely. “Met a few of those in me time. Don’t worry about him. He’ll find out soon enough that tha world doesn’t revolve around him.”

“I’m gonna go get a Coke from the machine. Want something?”

“Aye.” Murphy handed him a dollar. “Thanks. I’ll take one, too.” Steve left the room and Murphy flopped down onto the bed. He looked around the room, realizing that it was probably the nicest he had ever had. He closed his eyes, thinking of the boy in the hall.

His skin was golden-tan, probably from skiing in Colorado or running on the beach in Mexico, Murphy thought. His eyes were blue, sunny and warm, even as he looked at Murphy in disdain. His body was long and thin, his hands strong and soft looking. His hair was sun-kissed, too, not blond but not brown. The skin at his neck had looked so smooth; Murphy’s lips had itched to taste it. He couldn’t believe he had said what he did to the boy…the last thing he needed was for everyone to know he was gay.

Murphy frowned. No one would know unless he told them. If the Pretty Boy even opened his mouth, Murphy would bash in his teeth.

About twenty minutes later, Steve reappeared, handing Murphy a cold can of soda. “Thought ya ran away with me money.” Murphy took the can gratefully. It was warm in their room, and he made a mental note to buy a fan with his first paycheck from the school.

“I wouldn’t,” Steve promised. “Hey, tonight after dinner we have to meet in the common room. Some sort of orientation thing.”

“Fuckin’ lovely.” Murphy groaned and closed his eyes. 

“Wanna go check out the campus? I met some other guys, they seem cool. Not like that asswipe in the hall,” Steve said.

“Can I try an’ catch up with ya later? Gotta run over ta administration an’ get me schedule.” Steve stared at him. “Not for classes…I…I, uh, gotta work here ta earn me room an’ board. I’m like on a work study thing.” Murphy blushed slightly.

“That’s cool. Any idea where you’ll be working?”

“I’m just hopin’ it’s not tha dining hall. I’ll pick up fuckin’ trash around campus as long as I don’t gotta sling mashed potatoes,” Murphy said savagely. Steve laughed.

“I don’t blame you. We’ll walk you over there.”

“Okay.” Murphy was secretly pleased. It had never been easy for him to make friends; his past always got in the way. He was not quickly at ease with other boys his age, which was why the Pretty Boy in the hallway had gotten him so angry so quick. The Pretty Boy (as Murphy had mentally named him) was lucky Murphy’s hands had been full.

Steve introduced him to two other boys whose room was down the hall, Jacob and Will. They seemed nice enough, and Murphy started to relax a bit. They talked as they ran down the four flights of steps, and once again the met up with the Pretty Boy. This time he had the chubby boy from before as well as three other boys.

Murphy decided to take to the defensive immediately. “Aw, look, Steve. Pretty Boy’s startin’ a sorority.”

“Quit fucking calling me that,” the boy snapped. “What the fuck’s your problem?”

“You running around acting like ya rule tha world,” Murphy replied. “An’ now ya got a bunch of friends to revolve it around ya.” One of the boys glared at him. “I wouldn’t be getting’ any ideas, me friend.” Murphy flexed his arms slightly, staring hard. The boy actually stepped back a few steps.

“I’d rather rule the world than be a fucking criminal like you,” Pretty Boy said.

Murphy smiled coldly, but inwardly he winced. He knew he looked hard; hell, he had lived hard in his eighteen years. But to hear someone so obviously high class and so PERFECT say it, that made it worse. “What’s yer name, Pretty Boy?”

“Connor,” he said. “Remember it.”

“Oh, I will.” Murphy started walking away. “Pretty Boy,” he threw over his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

HOME  
Five

 

Murphy dragged his feet as he headed towards the dining hall, where he had planned to meet Steve and the other boys at five forty-five. He knew he’d have to work pretty hard to earn his keep at the university. He was just grateful that they had awarded him a partial scholarship. He was smart enough to attend, but the financial side of things had always worried him a bit, and he knew they’d hang over his head for a while.

But this? He had expected to be assigned to an administrative office, shuffling papers and making coffee. Or out on campus, raking leaves and mowing grass. THIS was not what he had signed on for. Not that he was too good for it, but he knew it would earn him nothing but trouble along with his money.

Will, Steve and Jacob were lounging around on the steps of the dining hall when Murphy walked up. “Slinging mashed potatoes?” Steve teased.

“I fuckin’ wish,” Murphy growled. Steve blinked at the cold hatred on Murphy’s face.

“Okay. Forget I asked. Let’s go in.” He turned and led the way inside.

“Fuck, man, I’m sorry. I’m not bitchin’ at ya in particular, just…not what I expected ta have ta do.” Murphy gave an apologetic smile, his face softening instantly. “Didn’t mean it.”

“What’s up?” Will asked as they got in line.

Murphy’s stomach grumbled, though he felt slightly nauseated. “I hafta work ta earn me room an’ board here.” Will and Jacob nodded, obviously not thinking any less of him. “I had ta go an’ get me assignment, ya know? I thought maybe I’d luck out an’ get a cushy desk job, or be cleanin’ up tha campus.” Murphy waited until they paid for their food and found four seats together. “But fuck, no, that’s not what’s happenin’. Not by a long shot.” He took a long draw on his soda straw before continuing. “I gotta work at tha dorm. Cleanin’ an’ shit. Fuckin’ straightenin’ up after yer slob arses.” He tried to smile and joke.

“Oh.” Steve frowned. “That might suck, yeah.”

“But,” Jacob said, waving his fork around, “You get to work practically out of your dorm room. You don’t have to get up early and be anywhere. You don’t have to dress special.”

“You can work inside and don’t have to worry about the weather,” Will added. “And the people in our dorm are pretty cool, so far.”

“Might not be so bad, listenin’ ta tha way ya talk,” Murphy said, pleased at the way they were trying to sympathize. “Thanks.”

“Fuck.” Steve put down his taco. “Except for one thing.”

“What?” Jacob and Will said together.

Steve met Murphy’s eyes. Murphy read his mind. “Connor,” Steve and Murphy said together.

 

When they arrived back in the common room, every seat was taken. Steve motioned to an empty spot in the corner and they sat in a group on the floor. Connor was holding court on the largest chair in the room, his new friends circled around him. He caught Murphy’s eye, said something in a low voice, and his group of minions chuckled with him.

“Okay, girls.” A man of about thirty-five burst into the room, slamming the doors. He wore a pair of grey pants and a black sweater. The creases in the pants were perfect and sharp, and his light brown hair was tucked behind his ears. He wasn’t very tall, and his body was thin and angular. “Let’s shut the fuck up, shall we?” He rubbed his hands together as he took his place at the head of the room. “My name is Paul Smecker. You can call me Smecker. DON’T call me Paul. I’m the lucky winner of the place as your boss. Your Dorm Daddy, if you will. On this floor, at least.” He looked around the room, daring them to talk while he was talking. “If you have any problems, come to me and I’ll listen to you cry, hand you a tissue, then help you get your wuss ass into gear. If you CAUSE any problems, well…” Smecker’s smile was totally without warmth. “Let’s just say I know how to beat you where the bruises won’t show.” The room was silent. “Looks like you get where I’m coming from. I’m not a monster, unless you bring it out in me. Understand?” They nodded as one. “I’m here getting my Ph. D, and being your babysitter gets me a free ride. I also would like to point out that my undergrad and graduate work is all related to criminal justice…so please don’t think you can pull a fast one and get anything past me. Understood?” They nodded. He pointed to a boy in the crowd. “Name and major.”

“Uh, Phil Sims, Accounting.”

“You?”

Another boy nervously spoke. “Adrien Crawford, European History.”

Smecker snorted but didn’t reply. “You. On the chair.”

Connor gave him a brilliant smile. “Connor Flanery. Pre-law.”

“Don’t think that buys you brownie points with me, boy,” Smecker snapped, and Murphy was elated to see the smirk wiped off Pretty Boy’s face. “Okay. Where is…” Smecker consulted a card. “Murphy MacManus.”

Murphy turned beet red, to his dismay. “Uh, here.” He raised his hand.

“Stand up, kid.” Murphy did as he was told. “Mr. MacManus is going to be in charge of things in our building.”

“What kind of things, Sir?” Connor called.

If the title impressed Smecker, he didn’t show it. “Maintenance, shall we say. You have a problem, you see him. I don’t want to be bothered with your petty shit.” He turned to Murphy. “Okay, MacManus?”

“Yes,” Murphy said, not bothering with the ‘Sir.’

“What’s your major, MacManus?”

“Psychology, Smecker.”

Smecker gave him an odd look but said nothing more. “That’s it, girls. Have a nice night. If I hear one peep in my room after eleven-thirty, I will not hesitate to crack skulls together.” He strode out of the room without another word.

The room began to buzz as the boys started to file out. Steve looked at Murphy. “Well, he made it sound almost respectable.”

“Aye, though I still feel like I need a shirt with me name over tha heart,” Murphy said, cracking the other boys up.

“Well, MacManus…” Connor said, exaggerating the name. “Nice to know we have someone like you to clean the johns and polish my shoes.”

“Tha only thin’ I’ll be polishin’ is yer face with me fist if ya keep it up, Pretty Boy,” Murphy snapped. “Ya’d do best ta leave me tha fuck alone.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” Connor said. “I’m not thinking we’ll be running in the same circles.”

“Thank God,” Murphy said, giving a grateful look towards heaven. “Wouldn’t want ta sully yer pretty sweater an’ all, runnin’ in yer circle.” Murphy eyed the beautiful grey sweater that Connor wore. The color brought out Connor’s eyes, though Murphy ignored that thought as soon as it entered his mind.

“I think it’d be best if we just steered clear of each other,” Connor said.

Murphy clutched at his heart, feigning shock. “Why, Pretty, that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said, I bet!” He grew serious, eyes narrowing. “C’mere, Pretty.” He slid an arm around Connor’s shoulders, watching the other boy shy away a bit. “I won’t hurt ya, Pretty, just wanna talk ta ya a sec.” He looked over Connor’s shoulder at Steve. “See ya outside?”

“Sure, Murph.” Steve, Will and Jacob left the room, slowly followed by Connor’s friends. 

“Look, Pretty, I don’t know why ya gotta be such a prissy arse, but just stay outta me way an we’ll be just fine.” Murphy smiled at Connor, a cold, crisp grin.

Connor shoved Murphy’s arm away. “Get your fucking hands off of me, prick. I don’t care what you think about me, but I’m not fucking afraid of you. Just stay outta MY way.”

“Oh, I’m shakin’ in me boots.” Murphy glanced down at his sneakers. “Oh…I’m not wearin’ boots. What does THAT tell ya?”

“Fuck off.” Connor left the room, hearing Murphy’s cold laughter behind him.

“Everything okay, Con?” Frankie asked when Connor came out into the hall.

“Fine. Let’s get some ice cream or something. I gotta wash the taste of that loser out of my mouth.” Connor led the way down the hall, trying not to think of Murphy MacManus. The fight was in vain. He could think of nothing BUT Murphy, and was a poor part of the conversation with his friends. He pleaded tiredness upon returning to the dorm, and made it to his lonely room without much fanfare. 

He fell onto his bed, pulling the pillow over his face. So the handsome boy with the pretty eyes was named Murphy. Somehow the name suited him perfectly. The rolling lilt of Murphy’s accent reminded Connor of home, of lush green hills and dusty back roads. It brought back memories and homesickness that Connor thought he had left behind the first year of prep school.

He rolled over onto his stomach, not even bothering to get undressed. He fell asleep soon after, but awakened in the middle night with wet boxer shorts and Murphy’s name on his lips.


	6. Chapter 6

From HOME   
Six

 

“Motherfuckin’ sonofabitch!” Murphy threw his soda can at the recycle bin, not at all surprised when it didn’t go in. “Piece of fuckin’ shite.” He made the shot the second time and went bounding down the steps of the Phys Ed building, taking them two at a time.

“MacManus.” Steve came jogging up behind him. “Hey. You were up early this morning. The first week of school got you so excited you can’t eat breakfast with your roommate?” Steve slung an arm around Murphy’s shoulder in a casual gesture of friendship. He smelled of soap and shampoo.

“Ya liftin’ this morning?”

“Every day.” Steve flexed a non-existent muscle and chuckled. “I’m aiming to be like you when I grow up, so I figured I better start getting all buff.”

“Fuck you,” Murphy said, but felt a little better. “I don’t think I know of any buff physics majors.”

Steve shrugged. “First time for everything. What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

“Fuckin’ administration.” Murphy frowned. “They didn’t get enough people signin’ up for tha gym class I took…gotta change it. They decided ta move one of me electives ta a time when I got somethin’ else. Gotta change it.”

“That does fucking suck,” Steve said sympathetically. “I’m taking tennis on Wednesday afternoons…can you fit it in?”

“I’m not thinkin’ that’d be for me, but thanks for suggestin’ it.” Murphy hefted up his backpack and thumbed through the course catalogue. “Where ya headed now?”

“Snack bar. I need caffeine. My next class isn’t until ten.”

“I’m free ‘til nine…let’s grab somethin’ ta eat an’ maybe ya can help me find somethin’.” 

Murphy’s mood improved slightly. He was still amazed at how easy it had been to make friends at college, after all his years of being a loner. He was still a little uncomfortable around other students; he knew that more than likely none of them had ever helped to kill a man with their bare hands. They had not shared his adolescent years of dark alleys and hideouts and getaway cars. But for the most part, he had only encountered friendly people at college, as long as you didn’t count Connor Flanery and his little entourage.

Steve held the door for Murphy and followed him into the tiny snack bar. “I’ll get us a seat. Pick me up a coffee and crème filled donut, okay?”

Murphy nodded and got into line. He picked up a tray and filled it with Steve’s coffee and donut, and scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, juice and coffee for himself. He paid for everything and found Steve at a small table in the corner. Steve reached into his pocket but Murphy shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Next time it’s on ya.”

“Thanks.” Steve grinned as he looked at the tray. “Hungry?”

“Starvin’.” Murphy shoved a piece of toast into his mouth and picked up the catalogue. “Fuck,” he sighed, leafing through it.

“What time do you have free?”

“Monday morning at eight, an’ Thursday at three,” Murphy said with his mouth full. “An’ I think everythin’ I might be interested in has a fuckin’ prerequisite.”

“Gotcha.” Steve scanned down the list of available courses. “Hey…how about this?” He cleared his throat and read in an authoritative voice. “Introduction to psychologies of religion. Introduction to major Western psychologies of religion such as James, Freud and Jung, and to subsequent extensions of and departures from them.”

Murphy stopped eating, thinking of his Da’s family prayer, hearing his Da’s reverent voice as he chanted. “Yes. When?”

“Monday morning.”

“You’re a magician,” Murphy said, and Steve grinned.

“Now about Phys Ed…” 

“Somethin’ physical. I want ta let off some steam,” Murphy said.

“Okay, that scratches golf off the list.”

Murphy laughed out loud, imagining himself playing golf. “Aye, that would be somethin’ ta see, yeah? Me on a golf course, with me plaid pants on an’ me preppy shirt.”

Steve laughed along with him. “You’d end up looking like that idiot Flanery.”

“I bet he’s fuckin’ teachin’ tha course,” Murphy said, and Steve cracked up. “Gimme that. Ya can eat while I read.” He finished the last of his bacon and took the catalogue. “Ah. Here we go. Boxin’.”

“Boxing?” Steve spit out his coffee. “You’ll be paying to get your ass kicked!”

“Who says I’d lose?” Murphy asked, looking so dangerous that Steve almost shivered.

“Okay, so you’ll be paying to kick someone ELSE’S ass.” Steve brushed crumbs off his shirt. “I should get going. I have to talk to some people before my next class.”

“Aye, thanks for your help. I’ll see ya later.” Murphy picked the catalogue back up, flipping to the page on the Psychology of Religion course.

 

Connor whistled through his teeth as he carefully made his way down into the basement of the dorm, large wash basket in his arms. He had debated taking Frankie up on his offer to do his laundry, but realized that the order of things was a little different at college compared to prep school, and he didn’t want any strange rumors going around about him. He knew that a few people thought him stuck up and rude, and he really didn’t care too much, but no need to fuel that fire.

“Fuck.”

The sharp curse word made Connor jump as he entered the laundry area. The room was empty, but he heard the clang of metal against metal. “Hello?”

“Oi, can ya help me over here?” A familiar accented voice called. “I almost got this fucker where I want it, an’ me tool is out of reach.”

Connor briefly debated with himself, between being a decent human being to this lowlife from Ireland, or being an asshole. The decent part of him won. “Hold on. What do you need?” He hefted the basket onto a washer and headed for Murphy’s voice.

“Tha wrench. The one with tha blue paint on tha handle. It should be on me left somewhere.” A washer was tipped back and safely connected to a wall, and Murphy stretched out from under it, his upper body in a dangerous position under the large machine.

Connor immediately found the wrench and slapped it into the outstretched palm. He absently noted the size of Murphy’s hands, the tattoos on the forearm, the veins running along the strong muscles. He leaned against a nearby dryer as the arm disappeared again. “That it?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Murphy’s knee bounced left to right as he worked the wrench. “C’mon ya pussy. Get in there. That’s…yes.” Murphy exhaled triumphantly and slid himself into a sitting position. “I really appreciate…oh.”

“Yeah. Me.” Connor raised an eyebrow as he looked Murphy over. The jeans were stained with oil, and Murphy’s chest gleamed with sweat. 

“Thanks,” Murphy muttered. He got to his feet and picked up an old grey t-shirt he had discarded a half hour earlier. “Appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Connor went to his wash basket, ignoring the fact that Murphy looked good sweaty and dirty. Very good.

“If ya give me one sec, I’ll be outta yer way. Though I’m surprised that ya aren’t payin’ yer maid ta do yer washin’.” Murphy snickered at his own joke.

“If you’re lucky, I’ll get your mother to do it for me,” Connor said angrily. “That’s what they do in Ireland, right? Poor women take in laundry?” He mentally winced as he said the words, sending a silent apology to his own mother.

Murphy’s skin turned even paler. He walked over to Connor, pinning him back against the washing machine, one hand on either side of Connor’s slender waist. “Say that again, Pretty Boy…I’ve been waitin’ an’ waitin’ for a good reason ta beat yer pretty face ta a pulp.” Murphy leaned forward into Connor’s face. “I’ve broken bones of better men than you for sayin’ shite about me Ma, may she rest in peace.”

Connor trembled slightly, not from fear, but from shame. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He reached up a shaking hand and crossed himself. “May she rest in peace.”

Murphy blinked and backed off a bit. Catholic. Interesting. “Whatever. Don’t say it again.” He returned to his toolbox and began putting everything away.

Connor silently loaded his laundry into the machine, wondering why Murphy MacManus had the ability to bring out the worst in him.

 

“Hello?” A voice said groggily. “This better be fuckin’ important.”

“Ma…it’s Connor.” Connor spoke softly, even though his door was closed and locked. “How are ya, Ma?”

“Connor?” Ma grunted. “Ya okay? Ya in some sort o’trouble?”

“No, Ma, swear m’not,” Connor said, the American accent easily slipping away. “Just missin’ ya today. Wanted ta hear yer voice.”

“Such a sweet boy,” Ma cooed. “Miss me, do ya?”

“Aye…miss ya doin’ me wash an’ cookin’ for me,” Connor teased.

“That’s all I was ta ya? A housekeeper?”

“No, Ma, an’ ya know it. I was just…lonely for ya.” Connor closed his eyes. Hearing Murphy’s Irish lilt so up close and personal had made him so homesick it hurt.

“Ya doin’ okay in yer classes?”

“Yeah, Ma. Not much ta do yet, but they’re all easy.”

“Of course they are. You’re me smart boy. Ya be careful…no trouble. Understand?”

“Aye, Ma.” A tear ran down Connor’s cheek. “Love ya.”


	7. Chapter 7

HOME  
Seven

 

“MacManus? You’re late!” The boxing teacher yelled.

“Sorry. Had a bit of a problem,” Murphy said, quickly tearing off his sweatpants and stretching.

“What goes on outside this building is NOT my problem,” the teacher barked. Murphy growled but said nothing. His day was NOT going well, and he didn’t need the added stress. He had failed one of his sociology tests, and his first research paper was due the next day and was not close to done. He still had work to do around the dorm, and he hated the thought of spending the evening in the library.

“Yeah,” Murphy said, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything else. He glanced around the large gym, doing a double take when he saw a small group of boys on a mat in the opposite corner of the room. There stood Connor Flanery, wearing what looked like white pajamas.

“MacManus! Into the ring. You’re sparring with Byron.” 

Murphy snapped to attention at the sound of his name, ignoring the thought that Connor looked really good in the loose clothing, his long legs accentuated by the soft fabric. Murphy quickly pulled on a pair of gloves and held out his hands for someone to fasten them. He pulled on the protective headgear, put in the mouthpiece, and climbed into the small ring.

 

“Very good, Flanery,” the teacher said approvingly. “I take it you’ve done this before.”

“Aye…I mean, yes,” Connor said, wincing at his slip. “Growing up I did a lot of martial arts,” he said truthfully. It wasn’t common in his small Irish town, but there was a tiny martial arts school that he had attended religiously.

“Good. I might call on you to help the others.”

“Sure,” he said, watching two boys in the boxing ring.

“Take five, Connor,” the teacher said. “Get some water or something while I work with these guys.”

Connor nodded and headed for the water fountain across the room. He absently watched the better of the two fighters, admiring the demon tattoos that flew up the right shoulder. As the person turned, he recognized the tattoo over the boy’s heart, and gasped. MacManus. Hoping he hadn’t been caught staring, Connor started walking back, occasionally glancing at the boxing ring. Murphy looked in his direction, and suddenly showed his sparring partner no mercy.

 

Murphy was paying attention to his partner, doing his best, but couldn’t help but notice Connor Flanery watching him. Was that…interest in the beautiful eyes? Murphy growled, glad no one could seem him blushing under the face protector. He turned on Byron, letting him feel the full force of his discomfort.

“MacManus, enough. Enough!” The teacher jumped into the ring, pulling the boys apart. “What the hell was that?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry, Byron. Didn’t mean ta go all apeshit on ya,” Murphy apologized sincerely. “Ya okay?”

“Fuck, man, take it easy,” Byron complained. They were helped out of their gloves and protection, and Murphy gave him a shameful smile.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Forget it,” Byron said, clapping Murphy on the shoulder. Murphy went to lean back against the wall, glaring at Connor.

 

Connor’s foot landed in the other boy’s chest, knocking him to the floor. “Excellent!” The teacher crowed. “Well done, Connor.” Connor shrugged, blushing slightly. “Okay, that’s all the time we have today. Off to the shower.”

A few of the boys came up to talk to Connor about martial arts, asking about his training and how they could become as good as he was. Connor laughed it off, trying not to brag too much, though he knew he was better at it than they would ever be. He followed his classmates into the locker rooms, continuing to chat with them as they got undressed and into the shower.

Connor grabbed his shampoo and soap, flipped a towel around his slender waist, and headed for the showers. What he saw there made him stop short for a split second. He recovered quickly, not wanting anyone to notice that he was totally eyeing up another boy in the shower. He wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, but he was very careful as to who knew about it. His own mother didn’t even know he liked men.

 

Murphy stood under the shower, letting the hot water pound onto his head. He desperately wanted to turn the water cold, for a very embarrassing erection was threatening to spring to life at the thought of Connor’s eyes on him. He could not deny how beautiful Flanery was, with that golden skin, shock of blond-brown hair and bright blue eyes. Everything about Connor was long and lithe, from his fingers and hands to his legs. Murphy wondered about the rest of him, growling at himself. Not a good idea. Not here.

 

Murphy’s first sexual experience with another man had taken place in a shower similar to this one, and therefore the idea of sex in the water held a special place in his heart and between his legs. It had been at a YMCA in one of the small towns Murphy and Da had spent a few months in…he had been taking out some aggression on a punching bag. He had been sixteen and full of stress, violence, and sexual frustration. Life on the run was hard enough…he couldn’t even try to find a steady girlfriend. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure it was what he wanted. 

The other man had been older, twenty, maybe, and had eyed him up while Murphy worked the bag. Murphy had been wearing a pair of cutoff sweatpants, sneakers, and nothing else, and he could feel the sweat dripping off of his body. Murphy had stopped to take a few deep breaths, looked over, and caught sight of the man, who was sitting on a weight bench in the corner. The man jerked his chin imperceptibly towards the shower, and Murphy had known immediately. It was what he had been looking for all his life. The man’s hands were strong, and he wasted no time turning on the water and pressing Murphy face-first against the cool tile wall. It was hard and fast and pretty painful, but left him with no doubt as to what he wanted.

 

He leaned one arm on the wall for support, dipping his head so the water flowed around and over his hair, therefore staying out of his eyes. He cut his eyes to the left, and there was Connor, a few showerheads away. Connor let his head fall back, water rushing over him. His calf and thigh muscles were well defined, and when he reached up to work the water through his hair, his biceps bulged slightly. His backside was tight and firm, and Murphy actually whimpered softly. “Fucking Christ,” Murphy murmured to himself, praying for strength. Connor turned around, allowing Murphy a good view of the front as well, and Murphy was grateful for his hand against the wall. He quickly closed his eyes, turned off the water, and grabbed his own towel, almost running another boy over in his haste to exit the shower.

 

Connor watched Murphy MacManus scurry out of the shower and blinked, wondering what was going on. He had done his best to avoid looking at Murphy, but the stocky build and muscular frame kept him looking back as surreptitiously as he could. Murphy looked like he could bench press a rhinoceros. Connor hadn’t looked long enough to get a good view of everything he wanted, but he knew it’d be enough to keep his dreams hot and wet for at least a week.


	8. Chapter 8

HOME  
Eight

 

“Murphy. Murph.”

“Tha fuck?” Murphy sat straight up, flailing at whatever was touching him. His right hand caught a sleeve while his left came over to grab the shirt a bit higher up on the body.

“Fuck, Murph!” Steve yelled, almost falling onto Murphy’s bed.

“Sorry. M’sorry.” Murphy wiped at his eyes with his left hand, releasing Steve’s shirt. “I…I’m used ta wakin’ up on tha edge. Sorry.”

“Remember me never to piss you off,” Steve said with a weak laugh.

“Sorry,” Murphy mumbled again, mortified that he had almost punched his best friend. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I know you don’t have class for a while yet, but have you seen my watch?”

“Yer what?”

“My watch. My wristwatch.” Steve frowned. “I could give a rat’s ass about it, except that it’s a fucking Rolex. My parents got it for me for graduation from high school.”

“Tha one with tha black band, right?” Murphy tried to focus. “Last I saw it, ya took it off an’ put it on tha’ desk when ya took a shower last night.”

“That’s what I thought, too…but it’s nowhere in here.”

“I’ll look if ya want,” Murphy said. “I’m up now.”

“If you could. Maybe a new set of eyes can find it,” Steve said unhappily. “I gotta go. Talk to you after lunch.”

“Aye.” Murphy stretched and pulled himself out of bed.

 

After lunch, he waited outside the arts building, where he, Steve and Will usually met up to grab a quick bite between classes every Tuesday. He saw Steve and Will round the corner of the building, and shook his head. Steve frowned, looking dejected.

“Sorry, Steve,” Murphy said.

“It’s not even the watch so much, I mean, it was a nice gift, and hello, a Rolex, but I don’t even want to think about telling my mom that I lost it.” Steve ran a hand across his face. “Dammit.”

“That sucks,” Will agreed.

“I tore tha room apart,” Murphy said. “Moved tha beds, even.”

“You know, I heard Mike Davenport down on the second floor say something about missing some money,” Will mused. “And Charlie Rice on our floor lost his whole wallet.”

“You don’t think someone’s taking this shit, do you?” Will asked.

“Sounds like it,” Murphy said. “Makes me thankful that I don’t have anythin’ worth stealin’ m’self.”

Steve finally smiled. “Bet you never thought you’d say that, did you?”

 

“Addison…Addison…” Murphy murmured, watching the signs on the end of the library stacks as he maneuvered through. “Where tha fuck are you, Addison?” He let out an “oof” as he connected with something that was not a stack of books. “Fuck, sorry!” Murphy hissed in a whisper as he grabbed at a shoulder to steady himself.

“No, I’m sorry,” Connor Flanery said, smiling sheepishly. Murphy quickly removed his hand. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He held up the book he had been looking at as he walked.

“Me either,” Murphy said gruffly. His stomach growled and he slapped an arm over it, embarrassed. It was after six-thirty, and he didn’t have the time or the extra cash to grab something at the student center. He was planning on eating some chips or something back in the room.

Connor smiled faintly. “You should probably take care of that.” He moved around Murphy without another word, leaving Murphy to stare after him.

“Crazy fucker,” Murphy mumbled, turning around and resuming his search for his research materials.

 

Two nights later, Connor threw his book at the TV in disgust. “That’s bullshit. He was totally safe.”

“Dude, he was out by a mile!”

“You’re just mad because the Yankees lost,” Connor said with a grin, holding out his hand. “Doesn’t matter how the last out was made, the Sox still win.”

“Asshole,” the boy growled, handing over a ten-dollar bill.

“Gentlemen.” The conversation ceased as Paul Smecker walked into the room. “Glad to see all of you in one place. Who’s not here?”

“Uh…Frankie,” Connor said.

“Steve, Murphy, a few of the guys from their end,” another boy said. “I know they were planning on making it an early night, though.”

“Why don’t you go wait by their rooms, and make sure they haul ass back down here, okay?” Smecker said, though his smile was anything but pleasant. “I’ll wait.” He turned a chair backwards and sat down, leaving everyone else to stare at one another.

 

“I need somethin’ ta eat before I get inta this paper again,” Murphy said, holding his stomach. “Not that dinner will make it sound any better. Thanks for lettin’ me use your computer, Steve. I just don’t have tha money for one yet, an’ it’s nicer than goin’ ta tha lab.”

“No problem.” Steve held the door and they headed upstairs with a few of the other boys.

“Hey, guys,” another student called. “Smecker wants you down in the common room.”

“What tha fuck?” Murphy groaned, thoughts of his failing grade looming larger and greater in his mind. They followed the other student into the common room.

“Good evening, boys.” Smecker stood, and any student still standing immediately hit the ground. “We seem to have a little issue here. A little bit of, well, let’s say, supply and demand.” Smecker began to walk through the group. “Apparently someone’s demand is greater than their supply, because someone’s been demanding someone else’s supply.” A student blinked up at him. “Someone’s stealing from someone else, Brainiac,” Smecker snapped. “Anyone know anything about it?” 

“Do…do you know what was taken?” Connor asked.

“Money. A radio. A watch. A whole wallet, believe it or not.” Smecker shook his head. “I don’t like any one of you more than any other, but I definitely wouldn’t have expected this from you. Is any one of you so poor that you need to fucking steal shit?” Smecker yelled. 

Murphy looked around the room, grateful that he didn’t have anything worth stealing. He noticed one of Connor’s friends whispering in his ear, causing them both to stare at Murphy. “What?” Murphy snapped. “Ya fuckin’ got a problem with me, why don’t ya just say somethin’ instead of actin’ like a fuckin’ pussy?”

The boy who had whispered in Connor’s ear, a chubby boy whose name, Murphy believed, was Frankie, shook his head. “No problem,” Connor said pleasantly. “You wouldn’t know anything about being so poor you’d want to steal, would you, MacManus? Besides…it would have to be someone with access to the room keys, right?”

Murphy jumped to his feet. “C’mon, asshole. Ya just gave me tha perfect opportunity ta turn that pretty face inside out.” His hands were clenched in fists at his side. “This should be fuckin’ quick.”

“Fuck off. I’m not scared of you,” Connor said, jumping to his feet as well.

“Enough, you two. Quit acting like such fucking dicks,” Smecker said, stepping between them. “No one is making any accusations here, understand?” He looked around the room. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. The guilty party should really, if he knows what’s good for him, report himself to me. We can take care of this quietly and anonymously. If anyone knows anything, and is keeping it from me, you better haul your ass to my room ASAP or you’ll have hell to pay.” Smecker looked around the room once more before striding out.

More boys looked at Murphy, whispering and pointing. “Fuck tha lot o’ ya,” Murphy said, leaving the room with Steve on his heels. 

Connor watched them go, frowning. He didn’t really believe it was Murphy; couldn’t believe that Murphy would do it when all fingers would so obviously point at him.

 

“C’mon, Murph,” Will cajoled. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“Fuck it. Not interested. Got work ta do.” Murphy bent over his textbook.

“You’ve had that reading done for days now. I watched you do it,” Steve said. “You need outta here.”

“I’m not givin’ anyone tha chance ta think I’m mousin’ around stealin’ stuff.”

“Murphy, stop it. I don’t think you stole anything. Neither does anyone else,” Steve protested.

“Will ya ever let me alone if I don’t go out with ya?” Murphy said, slamming the book. He was secretly pleased by the way they were urging him out of the room, like they really cared. He was so tired of the sneaky looks and whispers he was getting from the other boys in the dorm. Smecker tried to tell them there was no suspect, and had even interrogated almost each and every one of them fairly, including Murphy, but Connor Flanery had stirred up a huge can of worms with his remarks.

“No.” Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Fine.” But Murphy couldn’t hide the smile that burst onto his face as he dug under the bed for his sneakers.

 

“I’m starving,” Connor said as they went down the back stairs of the dorm.

“Me, too,” Frankie said immediately.

Connor waited for Frankie to hold the door, then took the steps two at a time. He froze for a second when he saw Murphy MacManus walking across the lawn with three other boys. “Hey, guys, go ahead down without me. I forgot something in my room.”

“Hey, can you grab my jacket for me?” Frankie asked. “It’s hanging on the back of my chair.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Sure, Frank. Lemme have your key.”

“Don’t need one. Just take your student ID card and jiggle the doorknob a bit as you slide the card up,” Frankie said. “My brother taught me that, because he always forgot his key.”

“You are a fountain of useless information, Frank.” Connor bounded back into the building. Instead of heading for his room, however, he went down the fourth floor hallway to the advisor’s suite. Smecker had a large room and private bathroom all to himself. Connor knocked, fidgeting as he waited.

“Yes?” The door opened just enough for Smecker to see who was on the other side. “Flanery. What do you want?”

“Do, uh, do you have a second, Smecker?”

“Hold on.” Smecker shut the door, then opened it again, wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms. He shut the door quickly, but not before Connor caught sight of a naked figure on the bed that was most definitely NOT female. “What’s your problem, Flanery?”

“Uh, Smecker, look…it’s about MacManus.”

“I know you two have some bad blood. I don’t want you here tattling…”

“I’m not,” Connor interjected. Smecker blinked at the interruption. “When was the last theft? I mean, when was it reported?”

“It was reported the night before our little meeting, but the student thinks it happened the night before that.”

“MacManus wasn’t here that night, Smecker. He was at the library. All night. I saw him there, literally RAN into him.” Connor flushed at the memory. “I just…it’s not right for everyone to think it’s him.”

“That’s only one night. One alibi,” Smecker said. “But I appreciate your honesty, Connor.” Smecker went into his room and slammed the door without another word.

Connor trudged down to Frankie’s room, which he shared with another freshman from Oregon. Connor pulled out his student ID card, followed Frankie’s instructions, and was surprised to see the door open immediately. He went across the room and snagged Frankie’s coat off the chair, but in his haste the jacket got caught, yanking the chair onto the floor. “Christ,” Connor snapped, bending down to straighten everything out. He knelt and untangled the coat, his blood running cold as he saw something under Frankie’s bed. “Fuck.”

 

“I’m coming. Hold your fucking horses.” Connor fell out of bed, glancing at the clock on the way down. Eight-thirty. “It’s Saturday morning for fuck’s sake!” He threw the door open, prepared to scream at whoever was on the other side. His scream died, however, when he saw Murphy MacManus. “Um…”

“Smecker wants you in his room. Wants us both.” Murphy turned on one heel and went back down the hall. Connor quickly threw on a t-shirt and padded down the hall in bare feet.

“Boys,” Smecker said, holding his door open. He smirked at Murphy. “You always sleep like that, MacManus? Always act like someone’s coming to kill you in the middle of the night?”

“Aye,” Murphy said with a sheepish grin. The knock at the door had immediately wakened Steve, who had opened the door and let Smecker in. When they had attempted to awaken Murphy, however, Steve had been rewarded with a bruising elbow to the chest, and Smecker had moved out of the way just in time. “I’ve done that ta him more than once.”

“I pity your future wife,” Smecker said. Murphy blushed but said nothing. “Flanery, I need to talk to you alone, but first I want MacManus to hear this.” Connor stared at his feet and fidgeted. “MacManus, I want you to know that Flanery stood up for you regarding the thefts.”

Murphy choked on his own oxygen. “He WHAT?”

“He stood up for you. Came to me and informed me that you were in the library one night, same time he was. He gave you an alibi.”

Murphy stared. “Ya gotta be kiddin’ me. He must’ve gotten somethin’ out of it…he sure ain’t gonna stand up fer me outta tha kindness of his large an’ wealthy heart,” Murphy snapped. Smecker’s glare shut him up.

“Shoulda kept my mouth shut,” Connor muttered.

“Anyway, I wanted you to know that the guilty party has been discovered and removed from campus.” Connor’s eyes widened. “He put up quite a fight, and I had to call security.”

“Fuck,” Murphy breathed. He looked at Connor. “Thanks,” he muttered. Connor gave him a nod.

“That’s all, MacManus. Go back to bed.” Smecker opened the door.

“Aye. Thanks.” Murphy went out the door, Smecker closing it behind him.

“Sit, Flanery.” Smecker motioned to a chair. Connor sat. “Aren’t you a bit curious as to who the thief is?”

“I…well, yes.”

“I’m sure you’re not, since you’re the one that slipped me the little anonymous bit of information that brought it all to light.” Smecker sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. It amazed Connor that the older man could look so immaculate even at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“Someone shoved a piece of paper under my door overnight…told me to search Franklin Logan’s room.”

“And?”

“And…I’m sure you know what I found.”

“You’re saying I’m a snitch?”

“I’m saying I found everything that’s been reported stolen, and then some.” Smecker smiled, but the gesture was without warmth. “You took a very sudden interest in the whole situation, Flanery. And I know you and Logan ran together.”

“Of course I did. I’m going into law. I want the right side to win,” Connor said almost primly.

“Let me give you a bit of advice, Flanery.” Smecker leaned forward. “Sometimes the right side isn’t always the legal side. Understand? Sometimes the side you know is right isn’t the side that’s going to win.” Connor blinked. “Another reason I assume you knew something…Logan brought your name up left and right.”

“Me?” Connor gasped. “Smecker, I swear to you, I didn’t have a fucking thing…”

“I didn’t say you did. Apparently he’s been a friend of yours for years?”

“We went to prep school together, ran in the same circles…”

“Ah, yes. I can’t see you two being buddy buddy the way he described.” Smecker brushed a lock of hair from his eyes, the movement controlled yet feminine. “Apparently it was all to impress you, though.”

“Me?” Connor said again.

“Yes. Mr. Logan mentioned your apparent homosexual tendencies, and had some of his own. He had quite the crush on you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Connor closed his eyes. “I had no clue.”

“I’m not judging you, Mr. Flanery. On the contrary, I am quite in awe of your discretion.” Smecker stood. “Mr. Logan has been escorted from school grounds, and his things will be packed by his family. I assure you that whatever secrets you wish to keep will not leave this room. I thank you for your cooperation.”

“Uh, you’re welcome. Thank you.” Connor darted out of the room and fled to the safety of his own bed.


	9. Chapter 9

HOME  
Nine

 

“Ryan…hand me that bag, would you?” Connor asked without looking up. “The black one on the desk.” He held out his hand and the black toiletry bag dropped into his open palm. “Thanks.”

“I can’t believe Fletcher picked you to do this,” Ryan griped, dropping into Connor’s desk chair. “Boston, man. You get a trip to the city, all expenses paid.”

“It does rock, doesn’t it?” Connor asked with a cocky grin. “Not that I haven’t worked my ass off to get chosen, you know.”

“Worked your ass off KISSING ass, maybe,” Ryan scoffed. Connor glared at him, making Ryan laughed. “C’mon, Flanery. ‘Oh, Professor, couldn’t I help you carry that? Oh, Professor, tell us again about that case you won right after passing the bar.’ You’re enough to make me puke.”

“Well, maybe I’ve been extra nice to Professor Fletcher,” Connor admitted, than laughed. “Not my fault he warms up to flattery.”

“You’re full of shit.” Ryan tapped his fingers on the desk. “Sure you don’t need someone to carry your briefcase for you?”

Connor chuckled. “This trip is all business, me boy, and I don’t think I’ll be needing you to carry me bags like a porter.” He lightly punched Ryan in the shoulder, allowing a bit of the Irish lilt to flow into his voice. “If you came along, I’d be skipping out on my work and going out to drink beer all night.”

“And that’s a bad thing how?”

Connor grew serious. “My mother is counting on me to do well here, Ryan. I don’t want to disappoint her. If I can impress the right people on this trip, I can get myself where I need to be.”

“Suit yourself.” Ryan stood. “A working weekend, for school, without pay. Not quite my cup of tea, but, you know, knock yourself out.” He clapped Connor on the shoulder and left Connor’s room.

Connor closed the door behind him, turning back to his bag. He knew he had a lot to pack, but he was almost too excited to concentrate. When Professor Fletcher had approached him about attending the open court being held for law students in Boston, it was too good to be true. Regular university students were almost never asked to attend, and it was unheard of for an underclassman to be asked. The professor had said that Connor was very promising for a freshman, and asked if he’d be interested. They would be in court all day Friday, with seminars and classes on Saturday. Connor had jumped at the chance, even though he’d be attending alone. A free weekend in the city was something he couldn’t refuse.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around, have dinner with us Friday night?” Steve whipped the football in Murphy’s general direction, but it still fell short. “Shit. I’m no athlete.”

“Aye, I coulda told ya that before ya started,” Murphy teased. He palmed the ball before letting it fly in a perfect arc.

“Bitch,” Steve snapped. “Some of us are athletic. Some of us are brilliant.”

“An’ some o’ us are athletic AN’ brilliant.” Murphy cracked himself up.

“And I say again, bitch.” Steve ran at Murphy, tackling him to the ground.

“Get off me, ya idiot.” Murphy shoved Steve off, laughing too hard to do much good.

Steve got up, brushing grass from his jeans. “Anyway. About Friday.”

“No thanks, Steve. I don’t want ta interfere with yer family weekend.”

“I wish you would,” Steve moaned. “A whole weekend with my parents and my sister. You’d distract them. They’d take one look at you and realize how wonderful I really am.”

“Fuck off,” Murphy said, shoving him. Actually, that was one of the reasons he really didn’t want to be around when Steve’s family came to visit. He didn’t want them seeing what kind of lowlife hoodlum their son had for a roommate. He and Steve got along very well, were together all the time, actually, but he didn’t want any sort of comparison. “I’ll say hi, be on me best behavior, then move it on out so ya can have quality time.”

“I think you should stay. My sister will love you. She’s sixteen…that’s not too young for you, is it?” Steve teased.

“Well, it’s pushin’ it,” Murphy said evasively. He had yet to talk with Steve about his sexual orientation, and he didn’t think this was the time to do it. “Next time.”

“If you liked me at all you’d stay home,” Steve begged. Murphy laughed.

“You’re pathetic. No thank you. I’ll be bummin’ it around tha streets o’ tha city.”

“I’m so jealous,” Steve said. “Sounds like fun.”

“It’s not livin’ tha high life, that I promise ya,” Murphy said. “Stayin’ in a fleabag motel, eatin’ hot dogs, probably, every day…it’s all I can afford. But I’ve been doin’ well with school. I feel I owe m’self somethin’.”

“Sounds great to me,” Steve said wistfully.

“No can do, brother. Yer place is with yer family. My place is getting’ drunk on cheap beer an’ sick on hot dogs,” Murphy said with a grin as Steve gave him the finger.

 

Hours later, Murphy knocked on Smecker’s door. Since the whole theft situation, Smecker had been nicer to him…as nice as Smecker was to anyone. They had sat in the common room talking late into the night a few times, and Murphy had run into Smecker at the local coffee shop twice. Both times Smecker had been leaning on the counter, talking up the handsome young barrista, and Murphy had his suspicions as to exactly what Smecker liked behind closed doors. 

Now was the time to find out. Murphy knocked again, bouncing on his heels. “MacManus, don’t you have a Sociology paper due?” Smecker barked.

“Finished this mornin’,” Murphy said, grinning. He was beginning to see that Smecker’s bark was mostly that: sound with no substance. “Had a favor ta ask of ya, if ya have a sec.”

“Fuckin’ Christ, MacManus…you kids never know when to let a person have some privacy.” But Smecker moved aside, letting Murphy into his immaculately kept suite. “What do you want?”

“I’m spendin’ tha weekend in tha city,” Murphy began. 

“If you need money, I charge obscenely high interest,” Smecker said.

“No. I got money. Some, anyway. I was wonderin’…if ya could recommend a bar or a pub that I might enjoy.”

Smecker stared at him. “You can trot right down to the bookstore and get a guidebook, MacManus. It’s amazing what publishers do with paper and ink nowadays.”

Murphy made a face. “Ha fuckin’ ha. I meant a…well…” Murphy scratched at his head, hoping he hadn’t guessed wrong. “I meant a pub that lets in kids under twenty-one…that also encourages a…well…alternate lifestyle.”

Smecker actually laughed out loud, a sound Murphy had never heard before. “You’re…fuck, Murphy, are you coming out to me?”

“Comin’ out, not comin’ on ta, just you remember that,” Murphy said quickly, actually blushing.

“Oh, I know. I don’t think we’re anywhere near each other’s type.” Smecker laughed again. “Christ. Not expecting that one. You don’t seem…”

“Are ya stereotypin’ me, Smecker?” Murphy teased. “You. Of all people.”

“Shut up.” Smecker went to the desk and grabbed a notepad. He wrote the name of a bar, and an address. “Go here. Mention my name and they’ll serve you, as long as you keep it discreet.”

“Fuck, Smecker, I’m not plannin’ on bringin’ tha place down,” Murphy snapped. “I can behave m’self.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Smecker handed him the piece of paper. “Have a good weekend, MacManus. Don’t call me to bail your ass outta jail.”

“Fuck, Smecker,” Murphy said with a charming grin. “I’m better than that…I never get caught.” 

Murphy left the room, glancing down at the note in his hand. He grinned when he saw the twenty-dollar bill tucked underneath it.


	10. Chapter 10

HOME  
Ten

 

“So, Mr. Flanery, still interested in the law?” Professor Fletcher caught Connor by the sleeve as they were swept out of the courtroom.

“Yes,” Connor said immediately. “More than ever.”

“Anything specific?”

“Well, I originally thought I was interested in criminal law,” Connor began.

Fletcher held up a hand. “Hold on. Let’s go where we can hear ourselves think.” He expertly led Connor out of the courthouse, down a few winding streets and into a dark pub. “Tap beer, Coke, two cheeseburgers and fries,” he told the bartender. They sat at a dark booth in the corner. “Continue.”

Connor paused, deciding he could be completely honest with his favorite teacher. “I used to think I wanted criminal law,” he said again. “I’m from Ireland,” he confessed, continuing to use his American accent. “I’ve only been a U.S. citizen for a few months, actually.” He blushed a bit. “My mother’s family is farmers and laborers. I always wanted to be some high profile lawyer, like in the movies.” He waited as their drinks were served. “But after today…I don’t know if I can do it. How do you really know your client is innocent? How do you know if they’re really guilty? What constitutes true guilt? Maybe the murder was in self-defense. Maybe their family is starving, and they HAD to steal.”

“Very true.” Professor Fletcher nodded. “All points to ponder.”

“I think…I’m honestly starting to be a bit drawn to civil liberties…human rights. Things like that.”

“Well.” Fletcher put down his beer. “I would not have expected that from you, Connor, seeing what I’ve seen of you this year so far. I thought you’d want to stay where the money is.”

“I do. I mean, hell, who doesn’t?” Connor said with a laugh. “But let’s just say I’m keeping my options open.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Fletcher toasted him with his beer.

 

Two hours later, Connor put his professor into a taxi and sent him back to his hotel. He got the feeling that the older man didn’t get out very often. Connor was grateful that the professor didn’t have to appear at any of the early seminars the next day.

“I’m staying at the Weston,” Connor said to the bartender. “Is it safe for me to walk there?”

“About a ten block walk, if you’re up to it, but yeah, you’re safe.” The man drew a few directions on a napkin. “It’s still early.”

“Thanks.” Connor pocketed the napkin and went out into the crisp fall night. He thought he remembered what the man had said while writing everything down, but didn’t want to look like an idiot, walking around Boston reading a napkin.

He was just starting to reconsider the entire napkin issue when a booming bass beat startled him. He peered down an alley, grinning as he saw the neon lights seem to appear out of nowhere. The grin broadened as he realized the lights were in rainbow colors, and that only men seemed to be entering the bar. He had never been to a gay bar before, and truth be told his sexual experiences with men had been limited. This would now be changing, he told himself. No one knew him here, and he could do whatever he wanted. He noted the closest cross street and hurried along his way, whistling as he went.

 

“That’s one hundred. In advance,” the old man behind the counter said. Murphy sighed and peeled off five twenty-dollar bills. The man almost yanked them from his hands. “No drugs. Got it?”

“I’m not doin’ drugs,” Murphy muttered. He supposed he looked the type, with his battered jean jacket and well-worn sneakers. Something about the city always seemed to toughen him up even more than usual. “Anythin’ else?”

“No.” The man handed him a key. “Check out’s at noon on Sunday.”

“Thank ya.” Murphy glanced at the key and walked down the hall to his room.

It was as he expected, dark and not very fancy, but it seemed pretty clean, and the water in the shower was hot and powerful. Murphy looked around and grinned. He had lived in places worse than this. He threw his clothes into the small dresser and headed out for dinner. It was Friday night, he was in the city by himself, and he had the whole weekend away from school. It didn’t get much better.

Saturday morning, Murphy slept until almost eleven. He got up and showered, then dressed in his old sneakers and a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He went for a large breakfast, then spent his day wandering around Boston. He stared in at Harvard, daydreaming about maybe someday teaching a seminar there. He wandered through the historical area, thinking about Paul Revere and the patriots who had made it possible for people like him to come to America at all. He spent hours at the Museum of Science, looked at fish at the New England Aquarium. It was a busy day, but at the same time totally lazy. He felt better than he had in weeks. When Murphy returned to his room, he saw Smecker’s note on the dresser with his toiletries. Murphy grinned. Oh yes. He was SO getting laid that night.

 

The bouncer looked from Connor’s face to his ID and back again. “You’re eighteen.”

“Says so, doesn’t it?” Connor said with a cocky grin. He hoped he looked older than eighteen in his black boots, black jeans, black wifebeater and white dress shirt.

The man attached a bracelet around Connor’s wrist. “You don’t drink here. Got it? We’ll kick your ass out.”

“Got it,” Connor said, taking his ID back. “Thanks.” He went in the door, following the steady stream of people down a hall and into a large room. “Perfect,” he whispered. Men were everywhere, old and young, sitting at tables, talking in corners, writhing on the dance floor. Apparently the bar had once been a warehouse, for there were three upper levels surrounding the giant dance floor. Lights flashed, music boomed, and Connor felt like he had arrived in paradise.

He went to the bar and ordered a soda, though he wanted more than anything to ask for a beer. He wasn’t taking a chance, though; he believed what the bouncer at the door had promised. He sipped at his drink, leaning on the bar with one elbow as he surveyed the dance floor. As soon as he got the feel of the place, he planned on being out there.

“How old are you?” 

The voice at his back surprised him. He turned to see a man of about fifty standing behind him, wearing tight jeans and an unbuttoned oxford shirt. “Uh, eighteen.”

“Sure about that?” The man leered.

“Yes, actually.” Connor turned back around. 

“Leave the kid alone,” the bartender snapped. “I’m not afraid to kick your ass again, Charlie.”

“Fine,” the man growled, disappearing into the crowd. Connor moved to hover at a corner of the bar where he could still see the dance floor but remain fairly unnoticed.

 

Murphy held out his ID, Smecker’s note wrapped around it. The bartender’s eyes widened. “You know Paul?”

“Yeah, Paul. Paul Smecker.” Murphy bounced on his heels. “We go ta tha same school.”

“How’s old Paul doing? We haven’t seen him here for a while.” The bouncer stamped the back of Murphy’s hand.

“Good. He’s busy with papers an’ all.”

“Good guy. Tell him Shorty says hey.”

Murphy stared at the large man who was at least three inches taller than he was. “Aye. I’ll do that.”

“Have a good night, kid.” The bouncer waved him in. Murphy shook his head as he shoved his wallet back into his pocket.

He pushed his way through the crowd, nodding his head in time with the throbbing beat of the music. A couple beers and he would be out there, working his way to getting lucky. Murphy felt a few appreciative stares as he waded through the room. His jeans were tight in all the right places, as was his dark red t-shirt. A leather cuff bracelet adorned his right wrist. “Whatever ya wanna pull on draft,” he told the bartender, putting his hand out so the man could see his stamp. He nodded his thanks to the bartender and took a long swallow of the beer, his eyes darting around the room. Murphy turned to look at the men lined up at the bar, and what he saw made him spit his drink onto the sticky bar surface.

 

Connor was debating on leaving the safety of his spot at the bar and attempting to dance when someone caught his eye. The body was good, tight and muscular where a man should be, dark hair, strong arms. The hair was slightly long and shaggy, but looked like it would feel good between his fingers. He silently begged the man to turn around and look at him. Maybe, if he was hot enough, Connor would go up and talk to him. The young man obeyed, turning around to face Connor’s general direction. Connor’s entire body froze.

 

Murphy turned back to the bar, staring at his fingers. He apologized to the bartender, grabbing napkins and wiping up his mess. Connor. Connor Flanery. At a gay bar in Boston. Murphy spent most of his waking hours trying to avoid Connor, and spent his sleeping hours dreaming about him, and now here he was. Fuck.

Murphy had to smile to himself. Connor was gay. Good to know. Good to know that his fantasies weren’t totally in vain. At least he hadn’t been jacking off to a straight man. And Connor looked good. A thin strip of leather encircled the slender neck, and the open dress shirt accentuated the flat plane of Connor’s chest and stomach.

Murphy had to do something. Either he had to leave, or he had to confront Connor. “Another,” he told the bartender, finishing his beer. As soon as the second beer came, Murphy downed it almost immediately. Fuck Connor and his hot as fuck body. Murphy would show him.

 

Connor stared as Murphy caught sight of him and promptly spit out his beer. Connor laughed. He couldn’t help it. So, tough as nails Murphy MacManus was gay. Interesting. Now Connor didn’t feel so bad about eying him up around the dorm. He watched Murphy inhale a second beer, put down the glass, and say something else to the bartender. Murphy then made his way to the dance floor. Connor hadn’t figured Murphy to be a dancer, but he was quite obviously mistaken. Murphy moved to the music like he was having sex with his own body. The tight muscles rippled and flowed, and Connor caught himself whimpering.

“Here, kid.” A beer was plunked down in front of him. “A gift from a secret admirer.”

“Uh, thanks,” Connor said, gulping at the beer like a man dying of thirst. The bartender replaced it without being asked, mumbling something about laws and fines. Connor drank this beer quickly as well, watching as young pretty boys and older men danced up to Murphy, only to be dismissed with a flick of the head or a shrug of the shoulders.

 

Murphy watched Connor out of the corner of his eye, noticing that Connor’s own eyes never left him for long. Murphy let the music move him, closing his eyes, remembering his dreams about Connor. He hoped the bartender would serve Connor; he knew that legally he shouldn’t serve either of him. But when Connor drank down the second beer, Murphy had to grin. Connor was nervous.

Men kept coming up to Murphy, and while he eventually planned on finding someone to take outside with him, right now his focus was on one person and one person only. And that person was focused on him as well.

 

“Ya sure I don’t owe ya for these?” Connor asked, the Irish brogue quickly slipping back into his words. He drank half of a third beer before plunking the glass down.

“No. That young kid bought them for you.” The bartender motioned to Murphy.

“Guess I’ll have ta thank him, then.” Connor pushed himself off the barstool, gathering himself mentally before heading across the dance floor.

He saw Murphy’s eyes widen as he approached. “Fancy meetin’ ya here,” Murphy said, continuing to dance.

“Thought I should come out here an’ thank ya for tha beer,” Connor said. Someone jostled him and he fell against Murphy, Murphy’s hands catching him just in time.

“Don’t make fun o’ tha way I talk,” Murphy growled, his hands tightening on Connor’s biceps.

“M’not,” Connor promised, realizing that his true accent was showing through because of the alcohol. He smiled, the devil in his eyes. “C’mon, MacManus. Let’s not fight just when we’re getting to know each other.” His hands slid up Murphy’s chest to push him away. “I came out here to say thank you, an’ I did.” His eyes ran the length of Murphy’s body. “Unless yer lookin’ for someone ta dance with. I see ya pushin’ everyone away…thought ya might want me out here with ya.” Connor winced slightly, reining in the accent once more.

Murphy vaguely thought that maybe Connor should have been an actor, for his Irish accent was perfect. He shivered slightly as Connor’s hands ran down his chest before he was shoved away. “Why tha hell would ya think that?” Murphy lied.

Connor leaned in until his entire body was pressed against Murphy. “Because I saw you watching me. I saw you telling everyone to leave you alone, while your eyes were on ME.” His fingers hooked in Murphy’s belt loops. “Want me to go?”

Murphy closed his eyes as Connor moved against him. “Christ, no.”

“Good,” Connor said, beginning to dance. “Cuz I don’t want to go.”

Murphy spun him around, keeping a tight hold on Connor’s waist so he could pull the slender body up against him. “Didn’t figure ya for a fairy.” His hips led Connor’s in a way he had been dreaming of for weeks.

Connor’s left hand slid up to cup the back of Murphy’s neck, while his right palmed the front of Murphy’s thigh. “I could say the same about you.” He allowed his body to roll with Murphy’s, feeling the rhythm of the music through the other boy’s skin. 

“You’re a sexy little tart, aren’t ya?” Murphy breathed against Connor’s ear, his hand sliding up under Connor’s outer shirt. “Ya always dance up on men like this?”

“No,” Connor moaned, Murphy’s breath on his skin making him harder than he’d ever been. “Never did this…”

“Yer a virgin, then?” Murphy said with a low chuckle.

That chuckle infuriated Connor. Connor shoved away from Murphy, turning to glare at him. “Am not, and I don’t think that’s it’s really any of your business.”

“Relax, Con. Relax,” Murphy said soothingly, pulling Connor back to him. He cupped one hand behind Connor’s head and pulled him for their first kiss, a kiss that was both bruising and tender. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”

Connor fell hard into the kiss, panting for breath when Murphy released him. “Fuck me,” he moaned. “You’re better than I dreamt.”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinkin’ of me, too?” Murphy turned Connor around again, wrapping one arm around Connor’s chest to hold him in place. 

“Yes,” Connor said, letting his head fall back onto Murphy’s shoulder.

“Mmm…I’ve been thinking of ya, too. I’ve been rememberin’ every time I’ve had sex, an’ imaginin’ it with ya,” Murphy confessed. He felt the shudder go through Connor’s body. 

“How…how many…”

“That’s not a polite question ta ask,” Murphy teased. “But I’ve done it ways an’ places ya never even thought about, Flanery. In a shower…face first against an alley wall…ridin’ someone on their lap…”

“Stop, please stop…” Connor gasped. “I’m gonna fucking cum right here…” He turned around, plastering himself against Murphy and kissing him hard. He fisted his hands in Murphy’s soft hair, barely letting him up for breath.

“Keep that up, Connor, an’ we’ll be doin’ more illegal things in this bar than just drinkin’ underage,” Murphy panted. His hands grabbed at Connor’s backside, holding him close.

“Then let’s leave,” Connor said, then blinked. He had been thinking it, had been begging for it, but never thought he’d actually be the one to suggest it.

“Where?” Normally Murphy could have cared less, but for some reason this seemed like a situation that shouldn’t be resolved against a cold hard wall somewhere.

“My hotel,” Connor said, clearing his throat. His nerve was suddenly dwindling away. “It’s, uh, a short walk away from here. Um, if you want.”

“Ya havin’ second thoughts?” Murphy taunted, watching Connor fidget nervously. He wasn’t going to let this one go. Not tonight. He was just drunk enough to let it show, to let Connor know how much he wanted him.

“No,” Connor growled. This time it was Murphy that initiated the kiss. “Maybe…another drink?” Connor breathed when Murphy released him.

“Aye,” Murphy said. “One more.”

They stumbled back to the bar, their bodies in constant contact. Murphy ordered their beers, sitting on a barstool with his knees apart. Connor stood between his legs, arms and body draped over him. “I don’t believe this is happening,” Connor admitted softly, against the soft velvet of Murphy’s neck.

“Aye, me as well,” Murphy agreed. “T’morrow we’ll wake up an’ kick ourselves, probably.”

“Right,” Connor said almost unhappily. His hand fisted in Murphy’s t-shirt, the heat from Murphy’s body like fire against his own. Connor kept himself from saying more by taking a huge sip of his beer.

“How much for the two of you?” A man sat down at the next barstool. “How much would it take for me to have you both?”

“How about a kick in the fucking nuts if you don’t turn around and leave us the fuck alone?” Connor growled.

Murphy blinked at Connor’s sudden fury, laughing in delight. “Aye, ya better watch it, man.” He kissed Connor’s cheek. “Me boy has a temper on ‘im.”

“Dirty fucker,” Connor said to the man, closing his eyes as Murphy’s tongue found his jaw line. 

“Let’s get outta here.” Murphy threw some money on the bar, giving the man the finger as Connor let him get up. “Have a nice evenin’.” He took Connor by the hand without even realizing it. They wove their way out of the bar, partially leaning on one another. “Which way?”

“Maybe…we should take a cab,” Connor suggested, none too steady on his feet.

“Ya lookin’ ta take advantage of me in tha backseat, little boy?” Murphy snickered.

“Why do I fucking waste my time with you?” Connor asked.

“Cuz I’m worth it,” Murphy said seriously. Connor looked at him for a moment, then started walking. Murphy quickly followed.


	11. Chapter 11

HOME  
Eleven

 

Murphy dug in his pockets for a cigarette, offering the pack to Connor. Connor shook his head, and Murphy shrugged. Murphy stopped walking just long enough to light the cigarette, then hurried to catch up. “Those things will kill you,” Connor said without looking at Murphy.

Murphy snorted. “Connor, me boy, I’ve done thins more life threatenin’ than smokin’, trust me.”

It was Connor’s turn to shrug. “Suit yourself. I could care fucking less if you drop dead from lung cancer.”

Murphy rolled his eyes, his lust cooled slightly by the distance they were keeping as well as by the cold fall night. “So…why ya here, anyway? In Boston.”

“I had an open court weekend,” Connor said. Murphy looked at him blankly. Connor sighed, talking as if Murphy were six years old. “You get to sit in court all day and observe, and then today we had seminars and conferences all day. You know. Open court.”

“I’m not an idiot, so quit talkin’ ta me like I am,” Murphy snapped. “I can figure it out, Einstein.”

“Whatever.” Connor stopped walking, the fresh air working its way through his alcoholic fog. “Here I am.” He motioned to the hotel. “I can call you a cab if you don’t want to come up.”

Murphy took one last drag of the cigarette, throwing it to the ground and crushing it under his heel. “Ya wantin’ ta get rid of me, then?” He moved in closer, until Connor could smell the smoke on his breath. “I didn’t figure ya for a tease, Flanery.”

“I’m no tease,” Connor said arrogantly. “Just thought you might have changed your mind.”

“About gettin’ fucked so hard we both forget our names? No, haven’t changed me mind one bit, Pretty Boy,” Murphy said, smiling sweetly. 

Connor nodded and willed his legs to turn and walk in the door of the hotel. They obeyed for the most part, though he could feel his knees practically knocking together. He didn’t turn to see if Murphy was behind him, though he could feel the other boy a few steps behind. Connor pushed the elevator’s call button, grateful when the doors immediately opened. He entered the small box, leaned against the wall in what he hoped was a casual manner, and pushed the button for the sixth floor. Murphy stepped inside, moving to the opposite side of the car. Connor studied his shoes as the doors slid shut, but didn’t have much time for contemplation. Murphy was on him as soon as the doors made contact with each other, his hands sliding down to Connor’s ass, pulling him close.

“Jesus fuck!” Connor gasped as Murphy’s teeth met his neck. His hands instinctively went to Murphy’s hair, fisting in the dark strands.

“Ya taste better than I thought ya would,” Murphy said, licking an obscene line up Connor’s skin. “Can’t wait ta taste every inch o’ ya.”

The bell dinged and it took everything Connor had to shove Murphy away. Connor stumbled out of the elevator, drunk on beer and lust. He hurried down the hallway, hearing Murphy trip after him. Connor dug in his pocket, found the keycard and fumbled with it a few times before the green light on the lock signified success. He pushed the door open, walking into his room with large strides. He kicked off his boots and had his jacket off by the time the door shut behind Murphy. He looked up at the other boy, noting the kiss-stung lips and wild blue eyes. “You are so fucking hot,” Connor breathed, leaning on the dresser to keep himself upright. Murphy pulled off his shoes without ever looking away from Connor. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He crooked his finger, motioning for Connor to come over to him. Connor sauntered over, a lazy grin on his face. He took Murphy’s face in his hands, kissing him hard.

“Enjoy that?” Murphy asked when Connor released him. Connor nodded, still smirking. “Good. It’s tha last time you’ll be in charge here t’night.” He put his palm on the small of Connor’s back, spinning him and shoving him face first towards the wall, catching him by the waist to keep him from getting hurt. “Ya may be rich an’ beautiful out there, an’ everyone might be runnin’ at yer beck an’ call, but not in here. In here I’ll be callin’ tha shots, an’ you’ll love every fuckin’ second of it,” Murphy breathed in Connor’s ear. He yanked the dress shirt from Connor’s shoulders, moving back to give Connor room to take it off completely before pressing himself along the line of Connor’s back. Murphy licked along the edges of the wifebeater, biting down at the nape of Connor’s neck.

“Fuck, Murphy…” Connor moaned, his hands scrambling for purchase along the flatness of the wall. “Please…”

“Ya sound so pretty when ya beg…” Murphy snickered. His hand slid around to Connor’s stomach, moving up to lightly flick over Connor’s nipples before going back down to Connor’s waist. He palmed down, grinning as he felt Connor’s erection through his jeans. “Mmmm…can’t wait ta have this…” Murphy’s hand moved like lightening as he undid Connor’s belt and jeans with one hand. The other hand shoved into Connor’s hair, yanking his head back for a kiss. “Why, Flanery…ya little slut,” Murphy whispered as his hand slid into Connor’s pants without resistance. “Goin’ commando…” Connor only whimpered, sucking on Murphy’s tongue. Murphy stroked his cock, his hand slow and exploratory.

“Murphy…Murph…” Connor finally panted. “Wait, please…I…I mean it.”

Even through his drunken lust, Murphy heard something in Connor’s voice that made him stop. He pulled his hand out and settled both hands on Connor’s slender hips. “What is it, Con?” He buried his face in Connor’s shoulder, praying that he wasn’t changing his mind.

“I just…” Connor let his forehead hit the wall gently. “I’ve never done…everything. I lied earlier. I’ve given and received blow jobs, but that’s…that’s all. I did it with a girl one time, but only once.” He felt his face flame with embarrassment. “Just…don’t laugh, okay? If ya want ta go, it’s okay.” The accent started to trickle back, and he made no move to stop it. “I’ll understand.”

Murphy’s hand slid up to pet through Connor’s hair. “No, pretty. I won’t laugh at ya, promise. M’not laughin’ at all.” He planted a soft kiss on Connor’s shoulder. “It’s okay. M’not plannin’ on goin’ anywhere, if ya want me ta stay.” He was surprised at the tenderness he felt at that moment.

“Don’t go,” Connor begged, and the sizzling need in Connor’s voice caused a surge of lust in Murphy.

“Don’t ya worry, pretty. M’sure not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere right now.” Murphy nibbled on Connor’s shoulder as his hand slid into Connor’s pants again. “Now, where was I?”

“Oh, God, right fuckin’ there,” Connor gasped as Murphy palmed his balls. Murphy’s free hand shoved at Connor’s jeans until they shimmied to the floor. Murphy worked Connor’s cock slow and steady as his other hand moved up to briefly hold Connor by the throat. A long finger traced Connor’s lips, and Connor gratefully pulled it into his mouth, letting his tongue dance around it before he gently bit at the fingertip.

“Aw, fuck,” Murphy moaned. “Ya definitely know what ta do with that mouth o’ yours,” he hissed. He added a second finger, and Connor sucked and licked them with obscene slurps and hums. Murphy regretfully pulled his hand from Connor’s face, sliding it down Connor’s back, ending at the top of his ass. 

Connor stiffened. He wanted this, and the alcohol was helping, but he still had never been touched there. He had never let anything get that far. “Murphy…”

“Shh, pretty. I’m not gonna do anythin’ ya don’t want,” Murphy promised. His fingers trailed down, teasing at the entrance with a gentle rubbing motion. 

Connor gasped, a shiver running down his entire body. Murphy’s right hand never stopped touching, caressing and fondling his balls and cock, and Connor found himself leaning into the touch. “Murphy…feels so good…”

“It’s gonna get better,” Murphy promised. He nudged at Connor’s head with his own until Connor turned to kiss him. Murphy sucked on Connor’s bottom lip. “M’not gonna fuck ya…but I’m gonna let ya know what yer missin’.” He dropped to his knees, leaning around to pull Connor’s cock into his mouth. “Gotta taste ya,” he murmured, licking him from top to bottom. Connor cried out, pushing at Murphy’s head to guide him deeper and faster. Murphy continued for a few minutes, then pulled back.

“Bastard,” Connor hissed. Murphy chuckled, licking his lips.

“Later,” he said, then moved back behind Connor. Before Connor knew what was happening, he was catching himself on the wall as Murphy spread him and licked at his entrance.

“What…Murphy…nnngghhh…” Connor moaned as Murphy’s tongue flicked inside. He knew some men did this, and had always imagined it as disgusting, but it most definitely was not. Murphy added a finger, teasing and tickling as one hand played with Connor’s cock again. “Murphy…” Connor said, his voice pleading as he began to rock back against Murphy.

“Relax, we got all night,” he heard Murphy say. Connor felt his knees shake as he forced himself to stay upright.

Connor tugged at his wifebeater until he had it off and was entirely naked before Murphy. Connor finally moved away from Murphy and his talented tongue, though a part of his mind was thoroughly cursing himself out. “Enough,” Connor said breathlessly. “Ya got too many clothes on,” he said, pulling Murphy up by his hair. “Naked. Ya need ta be naked.”

Murphy was too amused by Connor’s sudden aggression and too aroused to comment on Connor’s accent. “As ya wish,” Murphy said, grinning as he slowly stripped for Connor. Connor advanced on him until Murphy’s knees hit the bed and he sat down hard. “This where ya want me?” 

“For now,” Connor said, pushing Murphy on the chest so he fell onto his back. “I need yer cock in m’mouth, Murphy…been dreamin’ of it for ages.”

“Not gonna stop ya,” Murphy said, moaning as Connor’s tongue flicked over the head. “Not stoppin’ ya at all.” His hands ghosted through Connor’s hair, wanting to just shove the golden mouth onto him until Connor couldn’t breathe. Connor knew just when to lick, when to bite, when to suck. It obviously was not Connor’s first time doing it. “No, Con, stop,” Murphy panted, pulling at Connor’s hair. “Want ta come with ya inside o’me, not like this.” 

Connor pulled off and climbed up Murphy’s body. He straddled Murphy’s waist. “What?”

“Oh, Christ,” Murphy moaned, loving the sight of their naked cocks so close together. “I…I want ya inside o’me, before I fuckin’ explode.”

“I thought ya’d…I mean, yer so…tough, an’ demandin’,” Connor said. 

“Ya can top from tha bottom,” Murphy said with a sly grin. “I’m still tha boss.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Connor said, licking a line up Murphy’s chest and sucking on a nipple.

“Lube an’ condoms in me pants…on tha floor by the nightstand,” Murphy whimpered. Connor rolled over to get what they needed, then sat by Murphy’s side, looking a bit unsure. “I can get m’self ready, if ya don’t want ta do it,” Murphy said quietly.

“N-no, I’ll do it,” Connor said. “I just don’t want ta hurt ya.”

“Ya won’t,” Murphy said reassuringly. “Just get yer fingers wet, an’ get me ready. Not much ta it, really.”

“Just hearin’ ya talk about it is drivin’ me crazy,” Connor moaned. He opened the lube and coated his fingers. He brought his mouth back down to Murphy’s chest as he let one finger slide to Murphy’s opening.

“Mmm…yeah, pretty. Like that,” Murphy said, his eyes closing and his back arching. “Just…yeah…ya can add another…just get me ready for ya…like that.”

Connor could have sat for hours and watched Murphy writhe beneath him. His cock, however, had other plans, and was soon dripping onto Murphy’s skin. “Ya ready, Murphy? I can’t wait…”

“Oh, God, me either.” Murphy took the condom from Connor’s hand, opened it, and slid it onto the hard cock, his hand working lube over the latex. Connor sat back, hissing in a breath. Murphy rolled over onto his hands and knees. “Might be easier for ya this way…can see better.”

“See it? I’ll fuckin’ cum before I’m in if I look,” Connor said, but he looked down to position himself. “Let me know if it hurts.”

“Try ta go slow at first,” Murphy said, burying his head in his arms. 

Connor slowly pushed, feeling the grip of Murphy’s ass pull him in as he moved. “Oh, sweet God, it’s so fuckin’ tight.” Connor’s eyes closed. He had never felt anything like it in the world, and thought he might die of total pleasure. It was nothing like that one time with the girl.

“Go faster, Connor, please,” Murphy begged. Connor held him by the waist and moved out, then in again. “Fuck, yes, fuck me, Connor.”

“Fuck,” Connor gasped, hearing the words that before had only occurred in his wettest of dreams. He set a steady pace, loving the way Murphy’s body arched back to meet his thrusts. “Murphy…ya feel so good…I don’t know how long I’ll be lastin’…”

“Harder, Con…oh fuck, Connor, m’gonna cum…” Murphy gasped, reaching for his cock. He held himself up with one strong arm while the other stroked. 

“Murphy…fuck…” Connor gasped, holding Murphy’s hips in a bruising grip as he came.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Murphy yelled into the mattress as he came as well. Connor’s hold on his hips kept them from completely falling over, but they both slowly straightened their legs and lay down.

“Fuck,” Connor panted.

Murphy lay on his stomach, half buried in the pillows. “Holy fuck,” he amended.

“Aye.” Connor closed his eyes, an arm thrown over his face.


	12. Chapter 12

HOME  
Twelve

 

Connor winced at the bright glare of the sun streaming into his hotel room. He briefly wondered why he hadn’t closed the curtains the night before, rolling onto his side to get away from the eye-shattering brightness. As his elbow came into contact with hard muscle and skin, his eyes flew open once more. Fuck. Murphy MacManus lay on his stomach, his face half hidden by the fluffy hotel pillow. His dark locks stood up every which way, and he breathed through his mouth. One hand was fisted other his chin, and the line of his arm was lean and tight.

Connor stared at him, his headache intensifying as the previous evening began to solidify in his mind. There was drinking, dancing, sex. In that order. Fairly heavy drinking, pretty dirty dancing, and extremely spectacular sex, if he remembered correctly. Holy fuck.

 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Steve, shut tha fuckin’ curtains,” Murphy growled into his pillow. He opened one eye. “I said…fuck me.” Murphy’s eyes widened and he lifted his head off the pillow. Connor Flanery stared at him, blue eyes blinking owlishly. “Hi there.”

“Morning,” Connor whispered hoarsely.

“Holy fuck.” Murphy rolled onto his back, groaning. “Could ya…um, would ya mind…”

“I was trying to get the energy to do it, actually.” Connor slowly pulled himself out of bed, feeling suddenly and idiotically modest. He grabbed the bedspread, wrapped it around his waist, and tripped over to shut the curtains. They sighed as one in the lovely darkness of the room. Connor paused, wondering if he should go back and lay down. The hell with it. It was HIS room. He stumbled back to the bed, tossed the bedspread in a vain attempt to cover the whole bed, and dove back into the warmth of the bed.

“Thanks,” Murphy mumbled.

“No problem.” Connor lay on his back, eyes mercifully closed. “Did I waken you?”

“No…ya didn’t.” Murphy turned on his side, facing Connor though he knew he couldn’t see him. “What time is it?”

“Clock’s on your side,” Connor said sharply.

“Excuse tha fuck outta me, yer highness,” Murphy growled, rolling as little as possible. “Six-thirty. Shit. Still early.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Connor said, not meaning to sound so snarky, but unable to stop himself. His head hurt, he felt awkward and embarrassed, and just the sound of Murphy’s raspy morning voice was getting him hard again.

“Blow me, Flanery,” Murphy snapped, sitting up and immediately regretting it. 

“I did that last night, remember?” Connor said, glaring in Murphy’s general direction.

“Oh, yeah, guess I forgot,” Murphy said. “Ya got a lot ta learn…not even good enough for me ta remember it.”

“Shut up, bastard.”

Murphy grinned. “Oh, touched a little barely-not-a-virgin nerve there, did I?”

“Get the fuck out of my room,” Connor hissed.

“Oh, with pleasure, pretty.” Murphy swung his legs over the side of the bed. “But m’takin’ a shower first. I deserve that.”

“Yeah, I guess a whore usually does earn that,” Connor said, and instantly regretted it. He felt Murphy’s body tense.

“What did you call me?”

“You heard me. And I didn’t even have to pay you,” Connor said. “You make it a point of picking boys up at a bar and following them to their hotel rooms?”

“No. I usually get them ta come ta mine,” Murphy sneered. “I took pity on ya…wanted ta do ya a favor. Didn’t want ya ta embarrass yerself with someone else.” He got out of bed and picked up his jeans. “Don’t worry, pretty. I won’t tell anyone what a fuckin’ cherry ya are.” He went into the bathroom and slammed the door. Connor soon heard the shower start.

Connor swore and jumped out of bed. He groaned, allowing himself a few seconds to stop the room from swimming before heading for the bathroom. He threw the door open, stepping inside and slamming it behind him. “What the fuck is your problem, MacManus? You didn’t seem to mind me being a virgin last night. If I remember correctly, you told me you wouldn’t laugh at me about it.” Connor glared at the shower curtain.

Murphy bowed his head, letting the water fall over him. He held himself up with one hand, blushing as he remembered his words of the night before. Connor was right. “Aye, but I’m thinkin’ a lot of last night was tha beer talkin’.”

“So we fucked because we were drunk?” Connor said.

“Aye.”

Connor threw the shower curtain open and Murphy yelped. “I don’t fucking think so.” Connor stepped into the shower, dipping his head under the water. He ran a hand through his hair, getting it off his face. “I think you’ve been hot for me since the day you ran into me with that fucking trunk. I think I make you so fucking hard you can’t even see straight. I think you were GLAD to see me at the bar, because then you didn’t have to fucking whore yourself out to get laid. You thought I’d be easy, and if I wasn’t, that was okay, because you’d just get me drunk enough to say yes.” He poked Murphy in the chest as he spoke.

Murphy shoved Connor’s hand away. “Yer fuckin’ delusional, man. M’sorry that yer takin’ this so seriously. It was a fuck. It was a good one, especially fer someone like ya who never did it before…I’ll give ya that.” Murphy was lying through his teeth and praying he was pulling it off.

“If I’m just a fuck to you, then why are ya gettin’ hard again just being in tha shower with me?” Connor purred, his hand sliding down to grab Murphy’s cock. “Hm, tough guy?” Connor smiled sweetly. “Looks like someone’s ready for another round, even if YOU aren’t.”

“Fuck off,” Murphy said weakly, wondering how he was losing the upper hand in this conversation. He wanted nothing more than to clean up and get the hell away from Connor. His dick, unfortunately, seemed to have other ideas. 

“I’m thinking I could pull you out of this shower and fuck you on the floor and you’d go along with it.” He put a hand on the back wall of the shower, effectively pinning Murphy in place. He smiled charmingly, years of cajoling and wheedling to get what he wanted coming to the surface. “Does that sound so bad, Murph?”

Red hot lust seethed through Murphy, fighting past the hangover and the lack of sleep. He shoved the shower curtain open, stepped out of the shower, and yanked Connor with him, making sure the other boy didn’t fall on the wet floor. “Yeah, it does,” Murphy said, slamming the lid of the toilet closed and sitting Connor down hard. “I may be a whore, but I don’t fuck on the bathroom floor.” Connor stared at him, open-mouthed, as he reached down for his jeans. Murphy’s angry blue eyes never left Connor’s face as he dug in the pocket for another condom and a small packet of lube. Connor’s length was hard and pulsing in his hand, and he grinned as he slid the condom on. Connor didn’t fight him, just watched in disbelief. “Let me teach ya a few things, Connor me boy.” Murphy lubed up his fingers and slid them inside, hissing at the sharp intrusion.

“You’re such a fuckin’ slut,” Connor breathed, his tone one of admiration. He wanted to get up and walk away, but his body absolutely rebelled. He was getting one more piece of this beautiful man before turning away forever.

“I don’t think yer complainin’,” Murphy said, stepping over and straddling Connor’s legs. He slowly sank down, using one hand to guide Connor inside. “Fuck.” Murphy’s eyes fluttered closed. His preparation was minimal at best, and Connor was well endowed. He grabbed at Connor’s shoulders, his fingernails leaving marks on the smooth golden skin.

“Fuckin’ hell, Murphy…” Connor let his head drop back, eyes fluttering closed.

Murphy’s eyes flew open and he grabbed Connor by the hair, pulling his head up as he began to ride him. “I want ya ta remember this. Remember tha way ya let me throw ya around, how ya let me ride ya without one word o’protest.” Murphy moved faster and harder, until the backs of his thighs were slapping down onto Connor’s legs. “Remember tha way ya let me fuckin’ use ya.” Connor pulled his head against Murphy’s grasp but could not get the other boy to let go. He angrily dug his hands into Murphy’s waist. Murphy smiled, wincing slightly. “Aye, that’s right. Let go for once in yer life, pretty. Get angry with me.”

“Not…lowering myself…to your level,” Connor grunted, pinching at Murphy’s skin.

“Oh, but I think ya are…yer just as much of a whore as me.” Murphy rolled his body, letting Connor’s hard cock hit his sweet spot over and over.

“Never,” Connor growled, taking Murphy’s weeping cock in his hand and giving it a few hard, short strokes.

“Yes!” Murphy yelled, and could not hold back the orgasm that washed through him. He let his head fall onto Connor’s shoulder, biting hard.

“Fuck!” Connor yelled, the pain of Murphy’s teeth and the clenching around his cock bringing him over as well. “Jesus…”

Murphy paused for a second, then stood on shaking legs. He grabbed the closest towel and wiped himself off. “Forget tha shower. I’m outta here.” He pulled on his jeans, turning to finally look at Connor. “An’ if ya tell one person about this, I’ll fuckin’ kill ya.”

“Don’t worry,” Connor said, a cold look of indifference on his face. “I’m as ashamed of it as you are.”

Murphy grabbed the rest of his things and left the hotel room without another word. Connor stayed where he was until he heard the door shut, then got up and jumped back into the shower.


	13. Chapter 13

HOME  
Thirteen

 

“Ya sure about this?” Murphy held back, staring up at the huge house.

“As sure as I’ll be about anything EVER,” Connor said, tugging at Murphy’s sleeve. “C’mon. I can’t wait for you to meet them. Then you can come see my room, we can play tennis or go swimming…”

“Swimming,” Murphy repeated vaguely, thoughts of Connor wet and sleek dancing through his mind.

He followed Connor up the steps and into the mansion. “Master Connor…how wonderful to see you again,” the maid said, smiling as she took Connor’s heavy wool coat.

“You, too, Lila. Lila, this is my boyfriend, Murphy.”

Lila took Murphy’s jean jacket with a sniff of distaste. “Master Murphy.”

“Uh, hi.” He stopped walking. “Look, Con, I don’t think…”

“Let me do all thinking, Murphy. I know a bit more about this world than you do,” Connor pointed out. He took Murphy’s hand, their fingers intertwining perfectly. “I think they’re in the library.” Connor knocked on a large oak door. “It’s Connor.”

“Come in,” a woman’s voice called.

Connor opened the door, motioning for Murphy to go in first. An older version of Connor stood by the fireplace, with a woman seated to his left. Murphy thought they looked just like the commercials for retirement accounting and financial planning. Perfectly dressed, in dark somber colors. The woman had pearls around her neck, and the man had a class ring on his finger. “Mother, Father…this is Murphy.” Connor squeezed Murphy’s hand. “My Murphy.”

A spark ran through Murphy at the words, but the spark soon faded as he watched the Flanerys frown at him. “It’s nice ta meet ya,” he offered.

“This is Murphy?” Mrs. Flanery said, her nose wrinkling. “Darling, when you talked about him, I expected someone…” She waved a hand.

“Someone who didn’t look like he crawled out of a dumpster,” Mr. Flanery finished. Murphy’s eyes narrowed.

“He didn’t, Father, though he may look it.” Connor smiled at Murphy fondly. “Just give me time. I can clean him up, teach him everything he needs to know. Then he’ll be perfect.”

“Doubtful,” his father scoffed.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute.” Murphy yanked his hand out of Connor’s. “Yer not doin’ a damn thing ta me.”

“See, Son? You can’t change someone like that,” Mr. Flanery pointed out.

“Ya shouldn’t fuckin’ want ta!” Murphy said. “I’m outta here.” He whirled around and stormed out of the room.

“What a shame,” he heard Connor say. “He was such a good fuck, too.”

 

Murphy sat up, waves of embarrassment flowing through him. “Tha fuck?” He panted, wiping a hand over his face. Steve rolled over in his bed, mumbling something about cheetahs. A dream. A stupid dream, yet it felt so real. Murphy realized he was shaking with anger and anxiety. Fucking Flanery. “Just a fuck,” Murphy whispered to himself. “Just a fuck. For both of you.” He had to get Connor out of his head. It had been almost a week since their little rendezvous, and Connor seemed to be everywhere Murphy went. Even his dreams. Murphy crept out of bed, got dressed, and headed out for a run. Exhaustion. That would shove Connor right out of his brain.

 

“You dropped some,” Ryan pointed out to Connor. Connor leaned over, looking at the tomato sauce and mushrooms that had fallen from his slice of pizza. 

Connor smiled. “That’s okay. MacManus will get it when he cleans later.”

“True,” Ryan said with a smile. He was quickly turning into the closest friend Connor had in the dorm, though deep down he and Connor were as different as night and day. “Look, here he comes.” 

Murphy entered the common room, trash bag in hand. He did a double take when he saw Ryan and Connor seated at a table eating pizza, but simply said, “Hey.”

“Hey, Murphy. Connor dropped some pizza. Think you could get your lazy ass over here and clean it up?” Ryan called.

“When I’m good an’ ready, I will,” Murphy said, dumping the small trashcans into the bag.

“I think you’re ready now,” Connor said.

“Yeah…the smell is getting to me,” Ryan added.

Murphy rolled his eyes but came over to pick up the pizza. Connor put his foot down at the last minute, grinding the mushrooms into the carpet. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t watch what I was doing,” Connor said, smiling sweetly. He watched Murphy’s face burn with anger.

“Why do ya have ta be such a dick, Flanery?” Murphy growled. Murphy picked up what he could. “Now I have ta scrub tha fuckin’ carpet.”

Connor studied Murphy as he bent down, watching the muscles of Murphy’s arms as he moved. Connor cleared his throat, pulling his desire into check. “I don’t know, Murphy. Maybe because I fucking CAN.”

“Whatever.” Murphy stood. “Maybe if ya got off yer lazy arse an’ worked for a fuckin’ livin’ for just one day, ya’d understand what it’s like.”

“Why work when I have people like you to do it for me?” Connor asked.

Murphy stared at him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “If I remember right, ya liked tha way I worked for ya,” but he didn’t. He simply gave them both the finger and left the room. 

Connor stared after him, wondering why Murphy always seemed to bring out the worst in him. He then wondered why he cared.

 

“Hey, Murph. Check this out,” Steve said two days later. They were on their way out the door to class, but Murphy had run back to their room for something. Steve was standing by the dorm bulletin board.

“What…ya thinkin’ of sellin’ Mary Kay or somethin’?” Murphy joked as he came down the stairs. “Workin’ from home?”

“Nah, I’ll leave the working from home for you,” Steve said with a teasing smile. He was the only one who could get away with joking about Murphy’s job. It was still an embarrassment to Murphy, and he hated even hearing about it. “There’s an all-dorm football game on Saturday. We should sign up.”

“Football?” Murphy stared at the list. He actually preferred American football to what they called soccer, which would have gotten him kicked out of Ireland, had he actually lived there. He read the list, smiling grimly when he saw Connor’s name in the middle. “Fuck yeah, sign me up. I’ve got some aggression I need ta deal with.”

“You do seem to have an overabundance of aggression lately,” Steve agreed. “Boxing not doing it for you?”

“Aye,” Murphy said. “But I need somethin’ more.”

Later that evening, he sat in the library, muttering to himself over three large research books. A pencil was tucked behind his left ear, a cigarette behind his right, and he chewed on a pen. He stared into space for a moment, paused, then got up to find something else.

Connor came out from the stacks, two books stuffed under his arm. His eyes widened as he saw Murphy walk away from the table. He couldn’t control his curiosity, quickly sneaking over to Murphy’s table to see what Murphy was looking at. Connor was surprised by the titles of the books; he could hardly pronounce the titles on them. Some sort of medical books. He glanced down at the open notebook, smiling at Murphy’s neat handwriting. It was as cold and tough as the writer himself. Something else was sticking out from under Murphy’s notebook, and Connor pulled it out with one finger. A drawing. Of him.

Connor stared at the rough lines that created his hair, his face, his torso. He wore his martial arts clothing, and he lay in repose, one arm up over his head. Connor gulped hard, then quickly shoved the drawing into his book and hurried away, ignoring the butterflies that danced a jig in his stomach.

 

“C’mon, Steve.” Murphy leaned in their doorway, tapping his foot. “Let’s go.” It was perfect football weather, one week before Thanksgiving break. The air was cool and crisp, and the day was sunny.

“Hold your horses.” Steve dug into his closet, looking for his other sneaker. “There. Okay.” He hopped on one foot, trying to tie the laces.

“Clumsy bastard,” Murphy said, laughing.

“MacManus…you get time off from cleaning toilets to play today?” Ryan called down the hallway. Murphy noticed Connor behind him. Connor wasn’t smiling at Ryan’s joke.

“Aye…I made sure ta store all me supplies for it in yer closet, though,” Murphy called back. “Thought maybe it’d help with yer stink.”

“Fuck off,” Ryan said.

They continued down the hall. Connor turned and looked over his shoulder. “Looks like you’re wearing what you clean in, though.”

“Aye,” Murphy said, determined to keep his temper in check until they hit the football field. “Figured it was best ta wear me old clothes, so that when I shove yer face in tha mud, it wouldn’t matter how dirty I got.”

“Dream on,” Connor said, though he was a little nervous. He had played football many times while in prep school, but he still wasn’t all that familiar with it. He preferred baseball and basketball when it came to American sports.

They met in the large field behind the dorm, where Smecker and a few of the other Floor Advisors were waiting. Smecker almost looked casual, in a pair of black jeans and a grey Harvard sweatshirt. “Okay, girls, get your little asses over here,” he called in a feminine voice. “Does everyone have the permission slip signed by their mommy, giving them the okay to get dirty?”

There were a few chuckles and nods. Connor squatted down and began to stretch. If nothing else, he’d be limber enough. One of the other advisors began talking. “Okay, guys, this is touch football. Let me repeat that. TOUCH football.” His words were met with a series of groans. “Look…the first semester is almost over. I don’t want to send anyone to the hospital. If we see anyone getting nasty, we’ll haul your asses out of the game. Got it?” There were a few more mutters, but no one spoke up. “Good.”

“We considered letting you pansies just choose teams, but didn’t want to hear anyone whine,” Smecker said. “Therefore we basically threw your names into a hat and pulled out the teams. Chuck’s gonna read a set of names; when you hear yours, move over to my right.” He stepped back and let another advisor shout out a group of names.

Murphy’s name was the third one called, and he smirked at Smecker as he walked by him. “Can’t wait ta run yer skinny arse inta tha ground, Smecker.”

“Oh, be still my heart,” Smecker said quietly, actually chuckling. “Unfortunately, I do not get that pleasure.” He held up a whistle. “Ref, not team captain.”

“Oh well, another time, then,” Murphy said. His mood improved even more when he saw Connor standing with the boys on the other team.

“Okay, guys, get together here.” One of the boys from the third floor motioned everyone together. “I’m Dave, for those of you who don’t know me. I played a bit in high school, so I hope you don’t mind if I sorta take over here.” Everyone shrugged. “Okay, who here can throw the ball?”

Connor watched Murphy’s team out of the corner of his eye, his gaze drawn to Murphy’s tight jeans and long legs. “Flanery. Flanery,” Ryan repeated. “Wake up.”

“Huh? Sorry.”

“You look like you can throw.”

“Me? Oh, not really.” Connor shrugged. “Never wasted much time playing football.” A few of his teammates stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “Did other things.”

“Can you run?”

“Yeah, that I can do,” Connor said.

“Good. Just try to stay open and let someone get the ball to you,” Ryan ordered. Connor nodded, relieved.

 

Lines were drawn, rules were given, and the game began. Connor did his best to obey Ryan, which was easy. The ball didn’t come to him often, however, because the boys on Murphy’s team were out to take players down no matter what. For the most part, they obeyed the “touch” rule, but now and then a boy went down under someone else’s force. 

“Watch out, Flanery,” Murphy said as he walked by Connor. “Ya might get that pretty face dirty.”

“Keep talking, Murphy. I’d love nothing more than to dirty yours with your own blood,” Ryan called out.

“Problem?” Smecker asked, coming over to investigate.

“Not at all, Smecker,” Murphy said innocently. “Just talkin’.”

A few moments went by, and suddenly Connor saw the brown ball spiraling in his direction. He caught it, praying he wouldn’t drop it, and started running for what he knew was their end zone. He heard feet behind him, and sped up. He felt an arm around his waist, and suddenly they were both going down. He held onto the ball, though, and when he heard cheers, realized he was into the end zone.

Connor coughed and gasped, trying to get his air back. His tackler moved away, and Connor spit out some dirt. “Fuck. TOUCH football, remember?” He rolled over angrily, eyes widening as he saw Murphy. Murphy started to smile, then caught it just in time.

“You’re fast. I didn’t mean ta hit ya like that.” He held out a hand. “Sorry.”

Connor allowed Murphy to help him up. “No problem. It’s a game, right?” Boy, did that come out with about eight or nine different meanings.

“Aye,” Murphy said, his eyes narrowing. He allowed a grin to cross his face. “Got me wish though. Yer face is filthy now.” He turned and headed back to his team, brushing mud and grass from his jeans.

The game got nastier and more violent, all the boys working off steam and stress from days of studying and working hard. Ryan seemed particularly angry, especially when Connor’s touchdown was followed by the other team scoring three times. “Look, we gotta take out MacManus,” he said when the group huddled up. “He can fucking do everything.”

“What do you mean, take him out?” Another boy asked. “We’re not out here to hurt anyone.”

“Of course not.” Ryan smiled a cold smile. “Connor, you’re on my side with this, right?”

“It’s just a game, Ryan,” Connor said. “Let it go.” He was cold and dirty, and could only concentrate on the way it felt to have Murphy wrapped around him when they hit the ground. 

“Whatever.” Ryan drew up a play, and the others agreed.

Connor took his usual place on the field, wondering how much longer they would play. He watched as the ball was thrown, intercepted by Murphy, and then run down the field. He saw Ryan take off after Murphy, and smiled unconsciously as Murphy danced out of the other boy’s way. He really COULD do everything. His smile faded as Ryan’s elbow connected with Murphy’s ribcage, causing him to drop the ball.

“What tha fuck’s yer problem?” Murphy yelled. “Can’t handle tha fact that we’re stompin’ yer arse?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ryan yelled back.

“Okay, game over.” Smecker walked over and put a hand on Murphy’s shoulder. “Break it up, girls.”

“Fuckin’ pussy,” Murphy snapped, walking away with a hand on his side.

“Piece of fucking white trash,” Ryan snarled, and Connor even blushed. Murphy slowly turned around.

“Let me catch ya alone sometime, prick. I’ll wipe tha fuckin’ sidewalk with ya.” Murphy headed back to the dorm, Steve running after him.

Ryan came over to Connor. “I can’t believe he…”

“Let it alone, Ryan.” Connor walked away, deep in thought.


	14. Chapter 14

HOME  
Fourteen

 

“Sit on that, will ya?” Steve asked. 

Murphy obediently sat on Steve’s suitcase, trying not to harm anything inside. Steve grunted, moving the zipper around until it finally closed. “What tha fuck ya got in here?”

“Laundry,” Steve said with a grin. “My mom would worry if I didn’t take a week’s worth of laundry home over a holiday.”

“No wonder ya smell so bad lately…wearin’ dirty clothes,” Murphy teased.

“Well, if the lazy sonofabitch maintenance guy would fix the damn washers,” Steve shot back.

“Oi, keep it up. I have tha key to yer room, remember? I can do all sorts o’ things ta yer bed while yer gone,” Murphy reminded him. He ducked as Steve threw a punch, catching it on his shoulder. “Hey, yer gettin’ better.”

“I have a good teacher,” Steve said, clapping Murphy on the back.

“Aw, shucks,” Murphy said in fake modesty.

Murphy got up and Steve heaved his suitcase onto the floor. He would be leaving after his last class that afternoon. “I feel bad, thinking of you here alone over the holiday,” Steve said. “Five days by yourself.”

“Five days by m’self,” Murphy echoed. “Best thin’ I’ve heard in ages.”

“Shut up.” Steve sat on Murphy’s bed and Murphy sat next to him. “You really don’t have any family to go to?”

“Nah,” Murphy said, shrugging. “Me Da’s in Chicago right now. It’s too far ta go for such a short visit.”

“He’s not coming here?”

Murphy briefly smiled, thinking of his hardened father walking around the campus. “No. He’s busy. Work an’ all.”

“My mom said you could come,” Steve said. “She told me she really liked you. Kept telling me that if I worked as hard as you did, I could get somewhere.”

Murphy blushed. Steve’s mother had been nothing but nice to him, and after meeting her, Murphy had felt the aching hole in his heart that he thought had gone away…the hole that seemed to pang with loss when he thought about the mother he had never known. “That’s nice, an’ thank her for me…but I’ll just stay here. Get some things done, work around tha dorm…” Murphy ducked his head. “Thank her,” he said again.

“Look, I gotta get to class.” Steve held out his hand for Murphy to shake. “I won’t see you before I go. Call me at home if you need anything, alright? I’m only a four hour drive.”

“I’m not twelve years old, Steve. I think I can handle it,” Murphy said, but his smile was bright as he shook his roommate’s hand.

 

Connor dug through his desk drawer, looking for a pencil with a sharpened point. It was a major pet peeve of his, pencils with dull lead. He only took notes in pencil, and he couldn’t find the lead for his mechanical pencil. 

He sighed, giving up the search for a moment and leaning back in his chair. He had been working his ass off for the last few weeks, and his grades showed it. He could probably take a break, let a test or project slide, but he didn’t want to. More than ever, he wanted his mother to be proud of him. Watching all of his dormmates talk about vacation at home, and Thanksgiving dinner, made him miss his harsh mother more than usual.

The phone rang, making him jump. “Hello?”

“Connor, me lad.”

“Ma!” Tears sprang to Connor’s eyes. “Everythin’ all right?”

“Aye…can’t I call me boy?”

Connor allowed the tears to fall. No one could see them. And his mother had voluntarily called him…while sober. “Of course ya can, Ma. How’d ya know I was thinkin’ o’ ya?”

“Mother’s intuition,” she said, laughing loudly. “How’s school?”

“Great, Ma. I got a three point eight average right now.”

“That means nothin’ ta me.”

“Ninety-eight percent, Ma. Out o’ one hundred.”

“That’s me boy,” she said proudly. “I can’t wait ta go down ta tha Anvil an’ brag about ya. Of course, ya could be doin’ it yerself…”

“Ma,” Connor sighed. “I’d spend most o’ tha time travelin’, an’ hardly be there before I’d have ta leave. It’s not worth tha money.”

“Ya let me worry about tha money, Con.” His mother sighed. “So…meet any girls there?”

“Of course I have, Ma, isn’t a coed school?” Connor deflected skillfully. “Lots o’ girls here.”

“Any you’ll be wantin’ ta bring home this summer?”

“Ma!” Connor whined. “I’m not here ta meet a girl.”

“Ya should. Ya should be datin’ in yer spare time…find someone ta keep house fer ya.”

“Ma,” Connor sighed. “If a girl’s here at school, she’ll not be wantin’ ta get married an’ keep house. She’ll want a career.”

“Then find a dumb girl.”

Connor finally laughed. “I love ya, Ma.”

“Aye, love ya too, Connor.”

 

“I don’t know if I trust you being here alone,” Smecker said. “Well, not alone, exactly, because a few of the other students are staying, but you’re nothing but trouble, MacManus.”

“Aw, I didn’t know ya cared,” Murphy said, batting his eyelashes.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Smecker informed him. Murphy grinned. He was helping carry a few of Smecker’s things down to the older man’s Camaro.

“I’d love ta know how ya got tha dough for this thing.” Murphy ran a hand over the car lovingly.

“None of your business,” Smecker said. “I’d give you an emergency contact number, but I plan on being far out of reach.”

“Roughin’ it with tha little coffeehouse boy, are we?”

“His name is Nathaniel, I’ll have you know, and again, none of your business,” Smecker growled. “You’re fucking nosy. You should be in journalism, not psych.”

“You’re blushin’!” Murphy cried, laughing.

“Fucking freshmen,” Smecker said, climbing behind the wheel. “Remember what I told you about the bar. Keep your head low, don’t say much, and you’ll get served.” He held out his hand, and Murphy, still laughing, took it.

“Don’t do anythin’ illegal,” Murphy told him.

“Keep it up, MacManus, and I will…murder.” Smecker clicked his seatbelt into place and tore off down the drive.

 

Murphy took the glass of draft beer, nodding his thanks. Once again, he marveled at the far reach of Smecker’s name and reputation. Here he sat, in a tiny, hole-in-the-wall gay bar in their tiny town, way underage, drinking a beer. The bartender had given him a look, opening his mouth to tell him to get away from the bar, when Murphy said, “Paul Smecker sent me…said this was a good place ta go?”

The bartender nodded. “What’ll it be, kid?”

Murphy had ordered a draft beer and a cheeseburger, then moved to a worn booth in the corner. Just like Smecker said. He kept his head low, didn’t say much, and simply watched what was going on around him. This pub was nothing like the bar he had gone to in Boston. It was basically just a watering hole like any other, except no women were in the room, not even working as barmaids. He watched a man a little older than himself wiping tables and serving food, observing that he looked a little bit like Connor.

Murphy shook his head. Connor was almost becoming an obsession, and a very unhealthy one. He always seemed to run into Connor when he yearned for him the most, and he was beginning to think that he had one of two options. He could either go out, find a random guy, and fuck Connor out of his mind, or he could go find Connor himself and proposition him. Murphy snorted. That was about as likely as Murphy becoming President of the United States. He hated Connor with a passion that was all consuming, but unfortunately he lusted after Connor with that same passion.

Murphy paused, weighing the plusses and minuses of Connor Flanery. He was absolutely gorgeous, incredibly smart, and sucked cock like a fucking corner prostitute. He was also obnoxious, rude, cold and stuck up. Murphy shook his head. It was a hopeless cause. Looked like option number one was the best way to go. Murphy started eyeing the fifteen or twenty men in the room, wondering if any of them was interested in a quick lay with a not-quite-legal undergrad.

 

Two hours later, Murphy left the bar alone, jamming his fists in his jacket pockets as snowflakes dotted his dark hair. He made a mental note to invest in a winter coat with his next paycheck. New England winters were a bitch. He had been incredibly unlucky in the bar, but basically he hadn’t even made the attempt. No one struck his fancy. Unfortunately, his cock had the hots for only one person, a person who was probably off on a ski slope in Vale or a beach in Acapulco. 

“Hey, gotta light?” 

Murphy turned around and saw a handsome young man walking towards him. “Huh? Oh, sure, I do.” He held out his lighter, cupping his hand around the man’s cigarette.

“Thanks.” The man exhaled. “You just come out of the bar?”

“Yeah.” Murphy shrugged, giving a cautious grin. “Slow night. Ya have a good holiday.” He turned and started walking towards the campus.

“Hey.” He felt the hand on his shoulder and whirled around. The man was still there, with three friends. “You a fucking queer or something?”

“Or somethin’,” Murphy said, the familiar wash of cold anger soaking his body. “Ya got a problem with me?”

“Yeah, I do,” the man said with a jut of his chin. “Got a problem with all fucking fairies.” His fist hit home in Murphy’s stomach. Murphy gasped for breath, then returned the favor with a shot to the man’s jaw. “Fuck!” The man yelled. One of his friends caught Murphy behind the knee, bringing him to the ground.

 

Connor whistled through his teeth, kicking at the light dusting of powdery snow on the ground. Winters in Ireland were fairly mild, and he still couldn’t get over his delight at the thought of snow. He had just gotten out of a movie in town, and was headed to the mall for a cup of coffee before heading back to the dorm. He was pondering the idea of buying some donuts for the room when a shout made him slow down. He headed for the noise, eyes widening as he saw four men kicking and punching a still form on the ground. He knew that it wasn’t his business, but his mother’s teachings of always taking the lesser man’s side came flying back into his brain.

“What tha fuck?” Connor yelled, running down the alley. “You guys sure are tough, beatin’ tha shite outta a man who’s down. Four against one?”

“Looks like it’s four against two, now,” one of the men said. His face was bruised, so the figure on the ground had apparently gotten a few good shots in.

“Not fer long, boyo.” Connor executed a flying kick, catching the man on the upper chest and sending him sprawling. Another kick, followed by a quick punch, and another man went down. Connor turned the third. “Next?”

The man dove at Connor, who neatly twisted and avoided the lunge. The men were slowly tiring from their battle with the man on the ground, and Connor easily took the third man down. He looked at the final bully. “No…I’m fine. Don’t.” The fourth man grabbed one of his fallen brothers by the coat, yanking him to his feet. The other two slowly crawled, then stood, stumbling off down the alley.

“Hey there,” Connor said softly, bending down to brush snow from the shivering form on the ground. “It’s okay.” 

“Fuck,” the man groaned, letting Connor roll him over.

“Jesus,” Connor gasped. “C’mon, Murphy. Get up. Come with me.” He slowly helped Murphy to a sitting position, then pulled him to his feet. “We have ta get ya inside.” He supported most of Murphy’s weight, helping him slowly amble down the street towards their dorm.


	15. Chapter 15

HOME  
Fifteen

 

Murphy groaned, raising a hand to weakly bat at whatever was scraping at his face. “Hurts.”

“Aye, I know it does. Just let me clean ya up, an’ then I won’t have ta touch ya no more.”

“Da?” Murphy tried to open his eyes, but he was so sleepy. So cold. He shivered violently, causing the touch against his face to jump.

“Relax, Murph. Just relax,” the Irish voice said soothingly. “Ya’ve been through a lot. Let me help ya.”

“Tried ta fight, Da. There was four of ‘em,” Murphy muttered.

“I know,” the voice said softly. “Ya did good. M’almost done cleanin’ yer face. Then I have ta get these wet clothes off ya.”

“M’kay,” Murphy said. The warm cloth went away, and soon he felt hands tugging at his jacket, then his shirt and pants. His teeth chattered, and the hands started to pet along his skin. The hands were warm, but they shook slightly. 

“Here. Get in tha covers, Murphy.” Murphy moved where he was led, crawling under the covers and snuggling down on the pillow. “When ya’ve warmed up a bit, I’ll get ya dressed.”

“Sleepy,” Murphy muttered, fighting to open his eyes.

“Ya can’t sleep, Murph. Not yet,” the voice said. “Just stay awake a bit longer, aye? Let me check ya over.” A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook it. “Open your fucking eyes, MacManus.”

Murphy’s eyes fluttered open, widening when they saw Connor Flanery. “Ah, Christ.” Suddenly Murphy was very awake. He held the covers to his shoulders protectively. “You.”

“Yeah, me,” Connor said arrogantly. On the inside, he was twisting with worry, but he wanted to piss Murphy off enough to keep him awake. “Were you trying to play superhero or something?” He smoothly covered his accent, which he had only used to soothe Murphy.

“I was mindin’ me own business, thank ya very much,” Murphy growled. “Came out o’ tha bar…” He actually shivered, remembering the kicks to his side and the fists connecting with his face. 

Connor’s eyes softened, and he held out a hand to touch Murphy, catching it just in time. “I’m sorry.”

“I coulda handled ‘em,” Murphy grumbled. “They caught me off guard.”

“Guess so,” Connor said with a grin. Murphy couldn’t help but grin back. 

Murphy glanced around. “This yer room?” Connor nodded. “Wow. Nice.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing what money can buy.” Connor got up and dug through a drawer. “I have some sweats here…and a t-shirt.” He tossed them at the bed. “I’ll, uh, wait outside.” He went outside and closed the door.

Murphy blushed slightly. Even though Connor had already seen every part of him, it was a nice thing for him to do. “Okay,” he called once he had painfully pulled on Connor’s clothing. 

The door opened and Connor came back in. “Good,” Connor said. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you here. You needed to get inside, and I felt more comfortable bringing you to my room.”

“Now who’s playin’ superhero?” Murphy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, MacManus, if it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead in that alley,” Connor retorted.

“Oh, my knight in fuckin’ shinin’ armor,” Murphy snapped. “I was doin’ fine.”

“Bullshit. I saved your ass and you know it.”

“Great. Now ya feel I fuckin’ owe ya somethin’.” Murphy struggled to sit up, wincing as he put weight on bruised palms. He felt pain shoot through his side, and he fell back down. “Fuck.”

“Don’t!” Connor said as soon as he saw Murphy try to sit up. “You’ll just make it worse.” He flew to the bed without realizing it, putting a gentle hand on Murphy’s chest. “Don’t,” he repeated, blushing.

“Why tha fuck are ya bein’ so nice ta me?” Murphy asked quietly.

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” Connor said. “You don’t make it very easy.”

“I’m not good at lettin’ other people take care o’ me,” Murphy confided. “Not used ta it. Been on me own a while now.”

“Your parents?”

“Don’t know me Ma,” Murphy said, shrugging. “She died before I remember. Me Da isn’t too keen on tha father-son bondin’, if ya get me drift.”

“Right, your Ma. I remember,” Connor said. “Sorry.”

Murphy shrugged carefully. “Not a big deal. Don’t miss her, really.” Murphy looked into Connor’s beautiful blue eyes. “Thank ya. I mean it. Ya didn’t have ta get me out o’ that mess. It’s not like we’re tha best o’ friends.”

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t just leave someone there like that, and then when I saw it was you…” Horrified, Connor slammed his mouth shut.

Murphy felt himself blush. “You…you were that worried about me?”

“I think I have some Tylenol or something here…but we should really call the police,” Connor said, digging through drawers.

“No cops,” Murphy said absently. “Ya care about me.”

“Let’s just not talk about it, okay?”

“It WAS more than a fuck, wasn’t it? All this cold, stick-up-yer-arse shite was an act!” Murphy said triumphantly. “I knew it.”

“Don’t fuckin’ flatter yerself,” Connor growled, slipping into brogue without even noticing. To be honest, he was tired of holding up the image in front of Murphy. “Yer one ta talk, anyway.” He went into his sock drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. “Look familiar?”

Murphy gasped as he saw Connor, drawn by his own hand. “How’d ya get that? Give it ta me.”

“No,” Connor said, dangling it out of reach. “Come an’ get it, fucker. Right now I could pin yer arse ta tha floor with one big toe.”

Murphy lunged out of the bed, anger and embarrassment overshadowing his pain. He ripped the paper from Connor’s hold, smiling with satisfaction. His satisfaction was short lived, however, when the room spun and pain shot through him. “Fuck,” he grunted, feeling his world topple.

“Murphy!” Connor caught him, letting his body bear the full weight of Murphy’s. “C’mon. Get inta bed, now. Listen ta Connor.” He murmured into Murphy’s ear as he finally convinced him to get back into bed. “Does it really matter who’s right or wrong here? Forget about it.”

Connor’s hands were cool and relaxing on Murphy’s skin as he allowed himself to be led back to bed. “I don’t know what ta say,” Murphy whispered. “Don’t know what ta feel.” He looked up at Connor, who was fussing over him, tucking in the covers and tugging at the pillow. “I want ta hate ya, but I can’t. Yer everythin’ I’m not…come from a rich family, have lots o’ money. Yer beautiful. Yer like a fuckin’ angel or somethin’. I don’t have a chance with ya.”

Connor froze. “Murphy, it’s time ta be honest with ya. An’ after I’m done tellin’ ya this story, if ya want ta put it on tha fuckin’ bulletin boards, go ahead. I can’t live tha lie any more.” Connor sat by Murphy. “Once upon a time, there was a wee boy livin’ in Ireland. His name was Connor Flanery. He didn’t have two coins ta rub tagether. His Da had run out on his Ma, an’ tha two of them had ta make due.” Connor studied his hands. “One day, Connor’s Ma told him that her uncle had left them a ton o’money. Enough ta set them up nice forever. She put some away for Connor, an’ he studied hard enough ta get inta a prep school in America.” Connor was grateful that Murphy wasn’t interrupting. He was having a hard enough time as it was. “Connor came ta America an’ started a new life. He learned ta speak like tha other boys, an’ soon had everyone believin’ that he was a rich boy with a secret past.” Connor looked up and finally met Murphy’s gaze. “An’ he got real good at it…learned ta not even give a fuckin’ piss about anyone…until he met someone. Someone real and hard and cold and mean. Someone who didn’t give a flyin’ fuck if what he was wasn’t good enough fer anyone else. Someone fuckin’ amazin’.” Connor gave a short laugh. “So there ya go. Yer probably richer than me, really, Murphy. Yer definitely a better person.”

“Me Da’s a killer,” Murphy whispered. Connor stared at him. “He’s a hit man. We traveled all tha time, town ta town so he could do his work. He’s a fuckin’ hired assassin. I don’t even remember livin’ in Ireland, but I know that’s where we’re from. We only ever hung around with other Irishmen, an’ it’s all I know. A nun at school took an interest in me, an’ got me tha papers ta get inta school here.” Murphy’s eyes closed. “I’ve killed a man, Connor. I’ve killed with me bare hands.”

Connor silently got up and got Murphy a bottle of water from his tiny fridge. He then found the bottle of painkillers and offered two to Murphy. Murphy took them without a word, and Connor tucked him back under the covers. Murphy slid over, giving Connor plenty of room. Connor looked at him for a moment, then lay down on top of the covers next to Murphy. Murphy slowly tilted his head until it rested against Connor’s. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Connor said softly.

“Aye,” Murphy said, and it was the last either of them spoke before falling asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

HOME  
Sixteen

 

Connor’s nose itched. Something was tickling it. He tried to reach up and scratch, but something was holding down his arm. His eyes slowly fluttered open, and he saw something dark. Dark hair. Dark hair was tickling his nose. Dark hair attached to someone’s head. Murphy. Murphy MacManus was in his arms, head buried in Connor’s chest, tucked under Connor’s chin. Somehow, during the night, Connor had ended up under the covers with Murphy, wearing only his jeans, and Murphy had snuggled up close. Connor’s left arm was under Murphy’s back and shoulders, and his right was around Murphy’s front. Connor slowly lifted his right hand, gratefully scratching his nose. Murphy grunted, mumbling something about kittens, then burrowed back down again.

Connor lay still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of warmth and contentment. He had never woken up with someone in his arms like this. He had fallen asleep with a few girls, but had always slipped out before the morning. He winced as he remembered telling Murphy everything about his past, but he pushed that feeling away. Connor slowly wiggled his body, feeling the need to obey the early morning call of the bathroom. Slowly, inch-by-inch, he freed his body from Murphy’s grasp. 

As he climbed out of bed, he glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty. Way too early for a non-school day. Connor pulled on his shower shoes and hurried down the hall to the bathroom. When he returned to his room, Murphy had rolled onto his back, one arm wrapped around his stomach while the other was thrown over his head on the pillow. Connor quietly stepped out of his jeans and pulled on a more comfortable pair of pajama bottoms, though it was a little late for comfortable bedtime apparel. He slipped under the covers, holding his breath, but Murphy didn’t move. 

Connor leaned up on one elbow, looking at Murphy’s peaceful face. He wasn’t sure if he’d get this opportunity again, and he didn’t want to waste it. Murphy looked so young, his slightly stubbled face marred by bruises from his fight the night before. A lock of dark hair fell over one eye, and Connor gently brushed it aside. The covers had fallen to Murphy’s waist, and Connor could see a slim expanse of pale stomach where the t-shirt had crept up. Connor pulled the covers up, tucking them at Murphy’s chin. Something about Murphy made Connor’s heart ache, made it yearn for something it had never experienced. Murphy seemed to be everything Connor was not…dark where Connor was light, hard where Connor was weak. One of Murphy’s hands came up to scratch at his head before Murphy turned on his side to face Connor, that hand tucking under his chin. Murphy’s hands were strong, had killed a man. Connor didn’t know quite what to think of that. He allowed his hand to gently wander over Murphy’s head again, stroking and caressing, and he was admiring the line of Murphy’s eyelashes against his cheek when Murphy’s eyes fluttered open.

 

Murphy was warm. Deliciously warm. Then he was briefly cold, then he was warm again. He felt the covers move up under his chin and he rolled towards that warmth. Something was petting him, something gentle and nice. He sighed, enjoying the caring touch on his skin. As wakefulness slowly started to creep over him, he realized that he was in Connor Flanery’s bed, and that the petting hand probably belonged to Connor. 

Murphy’s eyes opened, and he heard Connor gasp in a breath. The petting ceased, and Connor’s golden skin turned rosy pink with blushes. “I…”

“Ya don’t have ta stop,” Murphy said, his voice husky with sleep. He saw Connor swallow deeply, and his eyes closed as Connor’s hand once more began to pet him. “Mmm…feels good,” Murphy murmured, moving a bit closer. He had never felt so pampered. Connor said nothing, just stroked his hair and occasionally his face. “I’ve never…never woken up with someone before,” he confided. 

“Me either,” Connor said softly. “I liked it.”

“Me, too,” Murphy said. “I feel safe.”

“Does it hurt?” Connor’s thumb briefly trailed over a bruise.

“Not too much. Of course, if for some reason ya make me laugh, my face will probably feel like it wants ta fall off,” Murphy said.

Connor chuckled. “I promise not ta make ya laugh. Even though I want ta laugh, since it looks like a elephant stepped on yer face an’ did a jig.”

“Fuck off!” Murphy said, shoving him. He couldn’t help but smile, and he groaned at the same time. “Fuck. That’s just wrong. It should never hurt ya ta smile.”

“Maybe a shower would help,” Connor suggested. “M’ sure hot water all over would feel good.”

“Aye,” Murphy said. He moved onto his back, suddenly uncomfortable as he remembered another shower, in the hotel. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Connor, what tha fuck is goin’ on with us?”

“Hmmm?” Connor, eyes closed as he lay back on the pillow, was only half paying attention as he lay next to Murphy.

Murphy rolled back over again. “I’m fuckin’ confused, Connor. I want ta hate ya, but I can’t. Not now. There’s somethin’…”

“Aye. I feel it m’self as well.” Connor rolled to face Murphy. “I’ve felt it since Boston. More than just wantin’ yer body. Want…more.” Connor ducked his head. “I sound like a girl.”

“No.” Murphy put one finger under Connor’s chin, tilting his face back up. “I feel it, too.”

“Have ya ever had…well, I guess a boyfriend?”

“No.” Murphy’s eyes closed briefly. “Was never in one place long enough, an’ I was already an outsider. Didn’t need ta start any more rumors about me bein’ gay.” Connor nodded. “Why? Ya offerin’?” Murphy teased, trying to hide his own anxiety.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Connor sighed. “I know I want ya like nothin’ I ever felt before. Want every part of ya…hated seein’ Ryan treat ya like he did at tha football game. I hate tha way I know I m’self treated ya. I’m really sorry about that, Murphy.”

“Shh, Con. Don’t even fuckin’ worry about it,” Murphy said. “I said some pretty awful stuff ta ya, too.”

“Not as bad as I did,” Connor said in a low voice. “M’sorry I called ya a whore, Murphy. Really really sorry. Wish I could take it back.” His face was bright red. “Was an awful thin’ ta say ta ya. Didn’t mean it. At all.”

“Connor, it’s okay.” Murphy put a hand up and touched Connor’s lips. “Forget it. I already have. An’ speakin’ of forgetttin’, while we’re apologizin’, m’sorry I ever said that ya weren’t good enough that night. Ya were amazin’. I didn’t forget about it fer one second. I’ve had dreams about ya, about that night, about havin’ ya, about bein’ inside o’ya.” It was Murphy’s turn to blush.

Connor smiled, pleased. “Ya dreamt about me?”

“Can we change tha subject now?” Murphy rolled onto his other side. Connor laughed, wrapping himself around Murphy’s back and feeling totally comfortable with the idea. 

“No, we can’t. Tell me.”

“I had a dream that I was…yer boyfriend, an’ ya took me home ta meet yer family, an’ they hated me.” Murphy wriggled a bit, enjoying the feeling of Connor tucked up against his back. “An’ ya said ya could change me ta be what they wanted.”

“Well, as ya know, I only have me Ma, an’ she’d fuckin’ love ya,” Connor told him. “Well, she’d love ya if ya were a girl, anyway. She doesn’t know about me. Wants me ta get married an’ settled down.” Connor sighed.

“Ah,” Murphy said. To get Connor’s mind off of the idea, he continued, “But that wasn’t tha only dream I had about ya.” He unconsciously writhed against Connor.

“Mm…so ya had those dreams, too?” Connor whispered in Murphy’s ear. Murphy shivered. “I woke up with wet shorts more than once because of ya, Murphy.”

“Fuck,” Murphy gasped, Connor’s breath hot on his neck. He felt Connor hard against his ass, and wriggled.

“Evil fucker,” Connor moaned. “What do ya think yer doin’?” He nibbled and bit down on Murphy’s neck.

Murphy gasped again, reaching up to curl a hand behind Connor’s neck, fisting his fingers in Connor’s hair. “Connor…”

“Hmm?” Connor lips and tongue investigated the soft skin of Murphy’s neck and ear. “Somethin’ I can do for ya?”

Murphy rolled and twisted quicker than Connor thought possible in his injured condition, and suddenly Connor was flat on his back, Murphy pinning his arms to the bed. Connor welcomed the familiar feel of Murphy’s domination, but this time it was different. Murphy’s eyes were tender as he looked down at him, their cocks separated by thin layers of pajama pants and sweats. “Do ya want me, Connor?”

“Fuck, yes!” Connor arched up, thrusting to meet Murphy’s body. “But yer hurt…”

“Don’t ya worry about that,” Murphy said. “Not hurt that bad.” Murphy bent down and kissed him, tenderly pushing his mouth against Connor’s until Connor whimpered and sucked on his tongue. “I want ta be inside o’ ya, Connor. Do ya have protection?”

“In tha nightstand, lube too,” Connor said breathlessly. When Murphy moved to go for it, however, Connor pulled him back. “Wait, Murphy. What…are we gonna…” Connor was confused, not sure what he wanted to say or how to say it.

Murphy let his body settle down over Connor’s in a way that was comforting and safe, and not just sexual. “Aye, Connor,” Murphy said, understanding immediately. He kissed him for a long time, kisses that were by turns passionate and tender. “We are.” Connor finally released him and Murphy got up to dig through the drawer. When Murphy turned back around, he saw the pajama pants fly onto the floor. He arched an eyebrow. “Eager little boy, aren’t ya?”

“Maybe,” Connor said, fisting the covers up under his chin. His eyes wandered over Murphy as Murphy slowly undressed, wincing a bit at his sore muscles. “Guess I should kiss ya an’ make it all better.”

“Later,” Murphy said. When he was naked, he grabbed the covers and threw them back. “We’ll have none o’ that, Mr. Flanery.” He moved between Connor’s legs, slowly working his way up with kisses and caresses. “I want every inch o’ ya open ta me.”

“Murphy,” Connor whimpered, fingers carding through Murphy’s hair as his body arched up in a greedy motion. “Murphy…”

“What, Connor?” Murphy licked a line up Connor’s inner thigh, suddenly taking Connor’s cock into his hot mouth. A lubed finger ran a line down to Connor’s entrance, carefully tracing circles before slowly venturing inside. He knew this was Connor’s first time, and he wanted everything to be perfect.

Connor cried out, head thrashing on the pillow. “Murphy…please…” The feeling was strange but wonderful, and somehow his body knew that he wanted more.

“You better stay quiet, pretty. Want everyone runnin’ in here an’ seein’ ya like this?” Murphy teased, lapping at Connor’s balls. “Though ya are about tha most gorgeous thin’ I’ve ever seen, wigglin’ around like that.”

“Only ones…on our floor…” Connor panted as Murphy added a second finger. “I checked…this week…”

“Good.” Murphy bit and licked his way up Connor’s chest. “Then ya can scream as loud as ya want. I want ta hear ya scream.”

“Murphy,” Connor moaned, realizing that he couldn’t think much past Murphy’s name. “Want ya. Inside me, Murph, please.”

“Gotta go slow, Con. Don’t want ta hurt ya.” Suddenly Murphy’s mouth was on Connor’s, his tongue stroking inside with the gentle push of his fingers. “Gotta go slow,” he repeated. “Want ta be good for ya.”

“Ya are,” Connor whispered, and the emotion in Connor’s voice made Murphy freeze. Murphy looked down at Connor, blue eyes searching Connor’s face. “I trust ya,” Connor said, wrapping his arms around Murphy. Murphy bent his head and sweetly kissed Connor in a way he had never kissed anyone else, a kiss so sweet that it brought tears to both of their eyes.

“Fuck, yer amazin’,” Murphy said, stroking with his fingers once more. “Make me feel like nothin’ I’ve ever known.”

“Ya do tha same ta me,” Connor said. “Ya make me glad I waited ta do this…that I never did it with anyone else.”

Connor’s honest words made Murphy blush. “I’ll try ta be worthy o’ ya,” he said. Kissing Connor one last time, he knelt up and opened the condom, fumbling with it nervously. Connor’s fingers were there, helping to smooth the latex over his erection. Murphy groaned, head falling back. “Connor…stop…please, or this will be over damn quick.” Connor smiled slyly, but let his hands fall back on the pillow by his head. Murphy growled and playfully nipped at Connor’s chest, then let his weight fall on one forearm as the other hand moved to guide his cock. “Sorry if I hurt ya,” he whispered, letting himself nudge at Connor’s entrance before laying both arms on the mattress by Connor’s. Connor’s eyes fluttered shut, a brief wince of pain crossing his face. Murphy moved to weave both hands in with Connor’s, their fingers interlocking perfectly. “Look at me, pretty.” He didn’t want to go any further until he knew Connor was ready.

“Love when ya call me that,” Connor gasped. “Ya make me feel it.”

“Ya are.” Murphy hissed as he slid inside. “Pretty an’ perfect an’ so fuckin’ good.”

“Move, Murphy, please,” Connor begged, getting used to the stretching of his body. “Murphy…fuck me…”

“Christ, Connor, what ya do ta me,” Murphy groaned. He had never wanted to take his time with someone before, had always wanted to just get in, get off and get away. This, though, this was heaven. He wanted to plunder Connor’s body until Connor screamed with pleasure. He soon set a rhythm of slow deep thrusts that had Connor arching up to meet every one. Connor’s hands slid out of his grasp, moving down to clutch at Murphy’s back and ass, pushing him in harder. 

“Ya feel so good…hard an’ deep,” Connor gasped, reaching up for a kiss. Murphy complied, kissing him with tongue and lips and teeth, brutally taking Connor’s mouth. 

Murphy felt Connor’s cock between them, weeping and hot. Murphy held onto Connor’s shoulder with one hand and reached between them with the other, stroking Connor in time with this thrusts. “Want ya ta come for me, pretty. Come good an’ hard, harder than ya ever did.”

“Murphy,” Connor whispered, eyes locking on to Murphy’s face. “Oh, Murphy, so good…”

“Fuck, Connor,” Murphy panted, hardly able to keep up a decent rhythm as his own climax approached. “Connor, come…come on…”

“Murphy!” Connor did scream, good and loud, as his fingernails dug into Murphy’s back. His orgasm hit him hard, coating Murphy’s hand and his own stomach.

“Fuck!” Murphy bit down on Connor’s chest as he came, thrusting a few more times into Connor. Connor’s arms wrapped around him, cradling Murphy to him. Murphy kissed Connor’s soft chest, tongue working over the tiny bite he had given him.

Connor kissed the top of Murphy’s head, not wanting him to move. But soon Murphy slid out of Connor, one hand moving down to remove the condom and carefully set it aside. Murphy didn’t move from between Connor’s legs, though, and Connor welcomed the weight and warmth of him. “Happy Thanksgivin’,” Connor said finally, and he felt Murphy laugh against him.

“Ow…Christ, that hurts,” Murphy said, but he continued laughing anyway. “Happy Thanksgivin’ back at ya, Connor.”


	17. Chapter 17

HOME  
Seventeen

 

Murphy finally rolled out of bed, stretching as he sat up. “Fuck,” he groaned, twisting and turning a bit to see what hurt the worst. “I feel like a fuckin’ pussy.”

“You definitely don’t look like one,” Connor teased, and Murphy gave him the finger. Connor closed his eyes and sighed, feeling perfectly happy for the first time in months.

“M’gonna go take a shower.” Murphy ran a finger up Connor’s bare chest. “Care ta join me?”

Connor moaned as Murphy’s finger teased at a nipple. “Yeah…I’d love ta do just that.” His eyes opened. “However, even though I know no one’s on our floor but us, I don’t want ta take a chance o’ one of tha other guys from another floor findin’ a reason ta shower in our bathroom.”

“Good point,” Murphy said with a wistful sigh. He smiled down at Connor, taking in Connor’s freshly-fucked hair and red lips. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“If I didn’t feel sticky an’ disgustin’, I’d never leave this bed,” Connor said, looking down at his stomach. “So hurry up.”

“Yes, sir.” Murphy got up and pulled on Connor’s sweatpants. “I’ll stop by me room, get me own clothes.”

“Ya don’t like bein’ in my pants?” Connor asked innocently.

“Don’t ya fuckin’ start, Connor,” Murphy said, moaning at the thought. Connor laughed as Murphy went out the door.

 

Murphy returned a half hour later, wearing a pair of his own jeans and a worn long sleeved t-shirt. Connor was where he had left him, covers up under his chin, attention fully focused on his television. “What ya watchin’?” Murphy asked, then chuckled when he looked. “Parade?”

“I like parades,” Connor said defensively. “An’ tha Thanksgivin’ ones are tha best.”

“Got ta see tha Macy’s parade once,” Murphy informed him. “When I was eight. Me Da had some work ta do in tha city…an’ he took me.”

“Wow,” Connor said. “Was it amazin’?”

“Aye, especially when yer eight,” Murphy said. “Now, are ya gonna go get cleaned up, because I’m not climbin’ back in ta bed with ya if yer still all gross.”

“Fuck off,” Connor said, but he climbed out of bed, stretching and groaning. Murphy licked his lips as his eyes wandered over Connor’s beautiful body. Connor grinned. “See somethin’ ya like?”

“Aye,” Murphy murmured. He walked over to span his hands over Connor’s slender waist. “A lot o’ thins.”

“Fuck,” Connor groaned, his cock hardening a bit. “We’re not gonna leave this room all weekend, are we?”

Murphy chuckled and gave Connor a tender kiss. When he pulled back, Connor’s eyes were wide. “What?”

“I just…it feels good.”

“Aye, it does,” Murphy whispered. He pulled Connor in for a hug, burying his face in Connor’s neck.

“Really good,” Connor said, resting his cheek on Murphy’s shoulder. “Feel like I’ve known ya forever.” He sighed. “We wasted so much fuckin’ time bein’ bastards ta each other.”

“I think that you were tha bigger bastard,” Murphy said. He winced as Connor bit his shoulder. “Ow!”

“Shut up.” But Connor was smiling as he picked up his shower bag and a towel. “Be right back.”

“I’ll be right here…watching yer stupid parade,” Murphy said, flopping onto the bed.

“It’s not stupid.” Connor left the room, glaring at Murphy over his shoulder.

 

When Connor returned to his room, freshly showered and shaved, Murphy was asleep on the bed, face buried in the pillow. Connor smiled and quietly put his things away before climbing under the covers with Murphy. Murphy immediately snuggled close, his head on Connor’s chest. Connor sighed contentedly, flipping between parades while Murphy slept.

About an hour later, Murphy’s eyes slowly fluttered open, tickling at Connor’s chest. “Stop that,” Connor whispered, giggling and shifting slightly. “Tickles.”

“So yer ticklish, then?” Murphy’s hands grazed up Connor’s sides.

“Please don’t, please,” Connor said, laughing harder. “M’really fuckin’ ticklish, Murph. Stop.”

“I’ll remember that. A secret weapon,” Murphy said, giving one more pinch. “Ya know, the parades don’t last all day. Anythin’ else excitin’ yer wantin’ ta do today?”

“Quit makin’ fun of me parades,” Connor growled. “We don’t have Thanksgivin’ parades in Ireland, ya know.”

“What’s it like?” Murphy asked wistfully.

“What?” Connor asked.

“Ireland. I don’t remember anythin’.”

“Beautiful,” Connor said with a sigh. “Lush an’ green. Ugly, too, in places. Kinda like America.” Connor brushed the hair from Murphy’s forehead, kissing him softly. “Maybe…maybe ya could come back with me sometime. Over Christmas, even.”

Murphy grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, sitting up. “What did ya just say?”

“I was just thinkin’ about it,” Connor said, plucking at the bedspread. “If ya wanted. I’d pay, ya know, it wouldn’t cost ya a thin’.”

“Connor,” Murphy began, but didn’t know what to say. “We just…this is only…”

“Christ, never mind then.” Connor’s face was red, and he rolled on his side, away from Murphy. “Forget I fuckin’ said anythin’.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Murphy put a hand on Connor’s arm, but Connor wouldn’t roll back. “Con…I just. Ya’d take me home ta meet yer Ma?”

“Of course,” Connor said. “I’m not like in yer dream, Murph, remember? She’d love ta have ya.”

“I’ve never really had a friend that wanted ta introduce me ta his family, except fer Steve,” Murphy confided. “No one liked me that much.”

Connor rolled back over. “I want ta introduce ya ta every part o’ me life. My past, everythin’.” Murphy turned pink with pleasure. “I…I just want ta.”

“I appreciate that so fuckin’ much, Con.” Murphy swooped down to give Connor a passionate kiss. “But I need ta see me Da over tha holiday.”

“I understand,” Connor said. “Probably fer tha best. I need ta tell me Ma that I’m…that I’m not…that I’m gay,” he finished quietly. “I may be comin’ back ta ya a penniless orphan…I don’t think she’ll take it well.”

“I need ta tell Steve, too,” Murphy said, snuggling back down with Connor. “He’s a good guy. I need ta be honest with him.”

“You’ve made some good friends here, haven’t ya?” Connor asked. Murphy nodded. “That’s good. I don’t…I don’t think I have. I have people ta hang with, but…”

“Ya have a fan club,” Murphy said, snorting. “Followers.”

“Hey,” Connor said sharply.

“It’s true an’ ya know it. Ya waved yer money around, acted like a powerful bastard, an’ they ran after ya.”

“It worked, didn’t it? I had friends.”

“Ya said it yerself, they’re not yer friends,” Murphy said softly. “Trust me, Connor. I never had any real friends until now…I know what tha difference is. Had me own followers in tha past.”

“I have one friend,” Connor said in a tiny voice. Murphy smiled and kissed Connor on the nose.

“Yes, ya do. An’ ya can hang with me an’ me other friends, if ya want.”

“Ya want ta hang out with me now?” Connor said, shocked.

“Of course I do. I’m not gonna pretend like thins are like they were, Connor, because I can’t. I’m not sayin’ we go shoutin’ our relationship from tha rooftops, but I’m not gonna act like I hate ya. I can’t,” Murphy repeated. Connor rested his head on Murphy’s shoulder, saying nothing, but feeling a wave of emotion running through him. “So…what are we doin’ today, ta get back ta our original conversation,” Murphy asked.

Connor thought for a moment. “Let’s go for a run,” he said. “I need one. An’ then we could go ta that diner on the west side o’ town. It’s open today.”

“Sounds good.” Murphy closed his eyes. “After I finish me nap.”


	18. Chapter 18

HOME  
Eighteen

 

“Just let me get my other sweatshirt,” Murphy said over his shoulder as Connor locked the door to his room. “Looks like it’s cold as hell out there.”

“Ya need a heavier coat,” Connor said.  
“When I get me Christmas bonus,” Murphy said sarcastically. Connor said nothing, wishing that Murphy would take every cent he had if Connor offered it.

“M’fuckin’ starvin’,” Connor said as they walked down the hall. “Always loved Thanksgivin’ best of tha American holidays…always good food.”

“Aye,” Murphy agreed. “We never had a family dinner or anythin’, but most restaurants serve a decent meal, if they’re open.” He unlocked his door and went in. Connor closed it behind them, leaning against it. His eyes took in everything, from the framed pictures on Steve’s desk to the empty walls on Murphy’s side. “It’s in here somewhere.” Murphy started digging through the drawers of his small dresser.

“Ya got a message,” Connor said, nodding towards the phone.

Murphy looked up, surprised. Sure enough, the little red light was blinking. “Probably fer Steve,” he said, triumphantly whipping the sweatshirt from the pile in the drawer.

“Ya never know,” Connor pointed out.

“Fine, nosy.” Murphy reached over and pushed the button.

“Hi, this is Steve and Murphy…leave us a message,” Steve’s voice said.

“Murphy, it’s yer Da. It’s…nine-thirty on Thursday mornin’. Just called ta say hello an’ all. Sorry I missed ya.” Murphy poked his head out through the hole in the sweatshirt. “I’ll be here until around eleven or so. Ya can reach me at three one two, five five five, one six six nine.” Click.

Connor looked at Murphy. “Me stomach can wait. Call him.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a card. “Phone card. Got about twenty minutes left on it, stateside. Call him.” He flipped the card onto Murphy’s bed and left the room, closing the door softly.

Murphy picked up the card, stared at it for a moment, and turned it over. He followed the directions on the back, dialing the number his father had left for him. “Sally’s Pub,” a woman answered. 

Murphy grinned. He should have known. “Hello. M’lookin’ fer Malachy MacManus. He left this number.”

“Sure, hold on.” The phone clunked against something as the woman yelled. 

“This is MacManus.”

“Da.”

“Murphy. Ya got me message then?”

“Aye,” Murphy said, sitting down. He never knew quite what he felt for his father; their relationship was awkward at best. Still, his father was his only living relative that he knew of, and it was comforting to hear his voice. “How are ya, Da?”

“Still breathin’,” Da said. “How about you? Doin’ all right with yer work an’ yer studies?”

“Fair,” Murphy said. “M’busy. Made some friends.”

“Good,” Da said absently. “Could really use ya around here, Murphy. Chicago’s a hard city…always need ta be watchin’ yer back.”

Murphy swallowed hard. He had been expecting this call sooner or later. Da didn’t understand why Murphy needed to be away from all that, and Murphy didn’t really expect him to understand. He just wanted more for his life, and he didn’t want to hurt his father’s feelings by explaining that all again. His father didn’t care much about anything, but he did have pride in what he did, felt it was his life’s calling. “If…if ya need me, truly, Da, I’ll come. I’ll drop out t’morrow.”

There was a long pause. “No,” Da said finally. “I have some friends here, we’ve been lookin’ out for each other. Ya stay there, fer now.”

“I…I was thinkin’ of comin’ out there, though, in a few weeks. Exams are comin’ up, an’ then I’m done ‘til January,” Murphy said quickly. “One o’ tha guys here is gonna loan me their car…I can be there the second week of December.”

“If ya want,” Da said indifferently, but Murphy knew he wouldn’t mind. His father never said he loved him in so many words, but it was there. “Leave me a message here if ya need ta. I’ll always get it.”

A prerecorded voice interrupted them, letting Murphy know that only a few seconds were left on the card. “Look, Da, I have ta go. Me card’s almost empty.”

“Take care o’ yerself, boy.”

“I will, Da. Love ya,” Murphy offered quickly, but they were cut off before his father could reply. Murphy hung up and finished putting on his sweatshirt.

Connor was outside, leaning against the wall, scuffing the heel of his sneaker on the carpet. “Okay?”

“Aye,” Murphy said, walking on down the hall. “Just callin’ ta wish me Happy Thanksgivin’ an’ all.”

“That’s nice,” Connor said. Murphy nodded but said nothing more. “Ya think they have pumpkin pie?” Connor asked, changing the subject as they left the building and began walking into town. “I LOVE pumpkin pie. With whipped cream.”

“Lots o’ fun thins ta do with whipped cream, I bet,” Murphy said with an evil grin. Connor actually whimpered.

“We can stop at tha twenty-four hour store on tha way back,” Connor whispered, and Murphy laughed. 

Murphy slung an arm around Connor’s shoulder, briefly looking around first. The campus was practically deserted, though, and there was no one in their immediate area. “Have I told ya lately how sexy ya are?” Murphy planted a kiss on Connor’s cheek. “Sexy an’ innocent an’ sweet.”

“M’not so innocent,” Connor protested. 

Murphy grinned. “Ya definitely won’t be when I’m done with ya.”

 

“YES,” Connor said enthusiastically as a platter was set down before him. Murphy’s was identical, piled high with turkey, stuffing, and sweet potatoes. Also on the table was a basket of dinner rolls and small bowls of corn and cranberry sauce. “Thank ya.”

The waitress, a motherly woman of about fifty, smiled. “Now you two make sure and give thanks for something before you dig into all that, or it’ll come back up later.” She glared at them playfully. “Anything else?”

“No, ma’am,” Murphy said. “Thank ya.”

Connor looked at Murphy. “Okay. Ya go first.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I said so.”

“Yer pretty damn bossy.”

“I’m older than you.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow. “An’ how do ya know that?”

“I just do.”

“When’s yer birthday?”

“April fourteenth, nineteen seventy-two,” Connor answered. Murphy gaped. “Would ya hurry up? It’s gettin’ cold.”

“When’s yer birthday?” Murphy asked again.

“I TOLD ya. April fourteenth…”

“Yer kiddin’ me,” Murphy interrupted. Connor shook his head. “That’s me birthday, too.”

“Really?” Connor grinned. “Probably still younger than me, though. Just say thanks fer somethin’.”

“Fine,” Murphy said, huffing a sigh. “M’ thankful fer havin’ me room ta m’self, though I bet I won’t be stayin’ in it so much this weekend.” Murphy winked.

“Get serious,” Connor said.

“Okay. Sorry.” Murphy thought for a moment. “M’thankful that I got ta talk ta me Da today.” He studied the turkey on his plate as his face soon turned almost as pink as the cranberry sauce. “And m’thankful that I got ta wake up with ya this mornin’.”

Connor blushed as red as Murphy. “That…that’s what I was gonna say.” 

Murphy smiled. “Guess ya’ll have ta come up with somethin’ else, then.”

“M’thankful that I have three more mornins ta wake up with ya this weekend,” Connor said quickly, and Murphy shoved some potatoes into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to reply.

 

“Fuck, I think I need another nap,” Murphy groaned as they left the diner an hour later. 

“From tha looks of ya, I think ya need ta hibernate,” Connor said with a grin, patting Murphy’s fat stomach. “Seein’ as how ya ate a whole fuckin’ turkey in there.”

“Don’t fuckin’ start,” Murphy growled. “I think ya put away a whole pumpkin pie.”

“It was good,” Connor proclaimed. “Had ta do it justice.”

“Yer a hog.”

“Yer one ta talk,” Connor said, bumping Murphy with his hip.

“I was lookin’ ta take ya back ta yer room an’ molest ya, but I’m thinkin’ it’s not such a good idea now,” Murphy said, lighting a cigarette.

“M’self as well,” Connor said. “I’d probably bring me dinner up all over ya, an’ how romantic is THAT?”

“Ya wantin’ romance, then?” Murphy teased, and Connor blushed. “Aw, it’s cute. Like a teenage girl.”

“Shut it,” Connor snapped, embarrassed.

“Want me ta bring ya some flowers?” Murphy continued.

“Yer a prick.” Connor strode on ahead.

“Aw, c’mon, Con. I was just kiddin’.” Murphy cajoled, linking his arm in Connor’s to slow him down. “Yer MY teenage girl.”

“Murphy,” Connor began, tugging out of Murphy’s grip. But Murphy’s grin was so infectious that Connor found himself fighting his own smile. “Yer a bastard.”

“An’ ya love me anyway,” Murphy reminded him, walking on ahead.

“Aye,” Connor said under his breath. “I do.”


	19. Chapter 19

HOME  
Nineteen

 

Connor’s eyelashes batted against Murphy’s shoulder as he spooned up behind him. “I was thinkin’,” Connor began.

“Stop it. That tickles.” Murphy squirmed a bit, half to get Connor’s eyelashes off his bare skin and half to grind up against Connor’s “good morning” cock. “Ya were thinkin’? I thought I smelled smoke. Besides, it’s Saturday. Ya shouldn’t be thinkin’ on a Saturday.”

Connor reached under the covers and pinched Murphy’s bare ass, making him really squirm. “Yer fuckin’ hilarious.” His fingers rubbed over the pinched area, soothing the skin. “When do ya think you’ll leave ta go ta yer Da?”

Murphy thought for a moment. “Well, I have exams through Thursday that week, an’ then I’ll leave whenever. Why?”

“Don’t get mad, okay?”

Murphy turned around in Connor’s arms, frowning. “Never a good thin’, when someone starts a sentence like that.”

Connor blushed slightly. “I’ll be away from ya fer a month, an’ I just found ya. Thought…thought maybe we could go back inta tha city fer tha weekend. I can change me flight home ta Monday instead o’ Saturday. We could get a room, go back ta tha bar.” Connor shrugged. “Thought it would be nice ta spend time alone tagether.”

“Oh.” Pleasure washed through Murphy at the thought of spending a weekend in the city with Connor. Then he sighed. “That does sound nice. I appreciate it. But…I can’t. I mean, I can’t afford it. Thank ya, though.”

“That’s why I didn’t want ya ta get mad,” Connor said, sitting up. Murphy sat as well.

“No. Yer not payin’ me way.”

“Murphy, look. I’d just be payin’ MY way. I’ll pay fer tha room an’ me food. Ya pay fer yer own food. I’d hafta pay fer me own room, anyway. Basically I’m just pickin’ up tha lodgin’.” Connor’s eyes were pleading. “Please?”

Murphy opened his mouth to refuse, then saw the look on Connor’s face. He had to swallow his pride. Connor wasn’t doing this to make fun of him, or hold it over his head that he was poor. Connor genuinely wanted to spend time with him. “Okay,” Murphy said finally. “But I’m takin’ ya out fer a nice dinner while we’re there.”

“Great.” Connor beamed at him. “It’ll be amazin’.”

They spent most of Saturday out of the dorm, enjoying the fall weather. Murphy taught Connor the finer points of passing and catching a football, trying hard not to laugh at Connor’s childish mistakes. Connor retaliated by challenging Murphy to a wrestling match, in which he continuously threw Murphy to the ground and pinned him. Murphy wasn’t too upset; he knew that most of his fighting skills were hand to hand combat as opposed to getting an enemy to the ground, and he really didn’t mind being pinned by Connor, anyway.

Saturday passed all too quickly, ending in a marathon session of lovemaking that went from sweet and tender to hard fucking and back again. They knew that things would change once everyone came back to the dorm, though they were determined to make it work. They both were still amazed at the fact that they had gone from hating each other intensely to feeling as if they had found their soul mate.

 

Steve dropped his things in the dorm room and went looking for Murphy. It had been a long weekend of dealing with his parents, and he was happy to be back at school. He went down to the common room first, thinking that Murphy might be there watching the large television set. The room was empty, so he decided to try the student center. Murphy sometimes went there to shoot pool.

The building was mostly empty, though most of the students were back on campus. He heard Murphy’s voice echoing through the downstairs hallway, and went to investigate.

“You cheatin’ little fucker. You cheat so bad!”

“I don’t think so. That was a clean shot!”

Steve didn’t recognize the other voice, and poked his head into the game room. What he saw made his jaw drop. There was Murphy, playfully wrestling with none other than Connor Flanery. “Murphy.”

Murphy froze, a smile lighting up his face. “Hey, Steve! How was yer holiday?”

“Fine. Ate a lot, you know, listened to my parents harping at me.” Steve eyed up Connor. “How about you?”

“Great. Just great.” Murphy followed Steve’s gaze. “Oh. Yeah. Steve, ya know Connor. Connor, me roommate, Steve Royal.”

“Right.” Connor bit his lip for a second, then held out his hand. Steve stared at it for a long moment, then finally walked over to shake it. “Nice to meet you.” The Irish accent was gone, replaced with the perfect American intonation.

“Me an’ Con were both here over tha holiday,” Murphy said, giving Connor a quick look of confusion. What was with the accent?

“You know what? I think I left my room unlocked…and even though our last thief is gone, I don’t want to take any chances.” Connor hung up his stick and grabbed his coat. “Nice to see you again, Steve. I’ll catch you later, Murphy.” Connor was out the door before Murphy could say anything.

“What the fuck, Murph?” Steve stared at Connor’s back. “I thought he was a spoiled little rich bastard.”

“No!” Murphy exclaimed, though he realized it was up to Connor to tell the truth. Obviously he wanted to hide the fact that he was Irish. “I mean, he is, was. Whatever. We got ta talkin’, an’ he’s not so bad.”

“If you say so.” Steve shook his head. “Man. I go away for a few days, and the world turns sideways.”

Murphy laughed. “Wanna shoot?” He motioned to the stick that Connor had put away.

“Sure. I need to work off some frustration from a long weekend with my family.” Steve picked up the stick and the chalk. “Prepare to have your ass kicked.”

After a few games of pool, they made their way back to the dorm, where they ran into Jacob and Will. They made plans to go out for one last big dinner before studying started, then headed back to their room. “Hey, Steve, I’m gonna ask Connor if he wants ta come,” Murphy said, passing by their door.

“Are you serious?” Steve stared at him. 

“Yeah. He doesn’t really have too many friends.”

“I wonder why,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “What about his little harem of followers?”

“They’re followers, not friends,” Murphy pointed out. “Give him a chance, okay?”

“Fine, but I still think he’s looking to stab you in the back,” Steve muttered, unlocking their door.

 

Connor threw his coat on his chair, satisfied when the weight of the fabric pulled the chair down to the floor with a thud. Murphy was immediately trying to include Connor in his life, introducing him to the person who was his roommate and best friend, and Connor immediately reverted back to the person he had pretended to be for years. He had covered his accent, putting on airs. He had promised Murphy that things wouldn’t change when everyone came back, that he’d be the person he truly was inside…and he had already blown it.

A knock came at the door, and he took a deep breath, prepared to apologize out the ass. He was surprised to see Ryan on the other side. “Hey, Ryan. What’s up?”

“Not much.” Ryan breezed into the room, closing the door behind him. “How was your weekend?”

“Good. Hung around here, mostly. Wasn’t worth the trip home for a few days,” Connor said, shrugging. “Too far away.”

“Where are you from, again?” Ryan asked.

“Uh, nowhere you’ve heard of,” Connor said truthfully. “I was gonna start studying…”

“This place must’ve been dead,” Ryan remarked, flipping through one of Connor’s textbooks. “Only other person I know that stayed on our floor was MacManus. Did you have any run-ins with him?”

“A few,” Connor said, shrugging again. “He’s okay, Ryan.”

“He’s trash, Connor.” Ryan looked him in the eye. “We could buy his fucking life.”

“He’s not trash,” Connor said automatically. “I’m beginning to learn that money isn’t everything, Ryan.”

“Oh, really? Tell that to someone who doesn’t have any, like MacManus.” Ryan laughed out loud. “It buys everything important.”

“Not friends,” Connor said. “Not love.”

“It can buy the right kind of friends,” Ryan snapped. “As for love, who needs it?”

“I need to study,” Connor said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Whatever, Flanery. I thought you were different.”

“I am, now,” Connor said. He opened the door, shocked to see Murphy on the other side, hand raised to knock.

“I see that. You might want to be careful of the company you keep.” Ryan shoved past Murphy, almost knocking him over.

“Hey,” Connor said weakly. “Come on in.”

“You seem ta be busy,” Murphy said coldly.

“Get tha hell in here, for fuck’s sake.” Connor grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in, closing the door. 

“Oh, so now yer Irish. I was curious about that,” Murphy said.

“Don’t fuckin’ start, okay?” Connor glared at him. “M’sorry. It’s habit. I have a hard time breakin’ it. I’m used ta usin’ tha accent when I need it. Always worked on tha girls, an’ teachers, an’ stuff.”

“So you “used” it on me?” Murphy asked.

“No. Not like that. Not with you.” Connor fidgeted. “With you I’m…me.”

“Ya weren’t “you” with Steve,” Murphy said.

“He doesn’t like me, Murphy. He’s suspicious, which he has every right ta be,” Connor pointed out. “He’s yer friend, not mine. Not yet.”

“Speakin’ of friends.” Murphy jerked his head in the direction of the closed door. “See Ryan didn’t waste any time talkin’ ta ya.”

“Fuck him.” Connor shook his head. “He’s a pompous bastard. He’s not me friend.” Connor sighed. This day was quickly going to hell in a very speedy hand basket. “I don’t have any friends. I’m seein’ that more than ever now.”

“Ya got one.” Murphy put his hands on Connor’s shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. Connor buried his face in Murphy’s neck, fisting his hands in Murphy’s shirt. “I love ya, Connor.”

Connor froze, pulling his face back. “What?”

“I love ya.” Murphy smiled nervously. “I’ve been wantin’ ta say that all weekend, but couldn’t bring m’self ta do it. But then, seein’ ya with Ryan, I was afraid ya’d choose him an’ yer rich life instead o’ me. I had ta tell ya.”

“Murphy, that life’s a lie. Ya know that.” Connor kissed Murphy. “Yer what’s real ta me now. An’ I love ya, too.”

They kissed for a long time, slow passionate kisses. “I came here ta ask ya ta dinner with me, Steve, Will an’ Jacob,” Murphy said finally. “They’ll think ya killed me an’ hid me in yer closet.”

“They probably do think that,” Connor sighed. “But I want ta give them a chance, if they’ll give me one. An’ I’ll tell them where I’m from, an’ about tha money, an’ everythin’, if ya want.”

“Only tell them what YOU want ta tell,” Murphy told him. Connor nodded, and they shared one more brief kiss before Connor grabbed his coat.


	20. Chapter 20

HOME  
Twenty

 

Murphy knocked before opening his dorm room door. “It’s Murph,” he said, and went in. Steve was on his bed, reading a magazine. “We leavin’ in about fifteen minutes?” Murphy asked Steve.

“Yeah. They said they’d meet us downstairs.” Steve didn’t look at Connor, who was standing by the door. 

Murphy gave his roommate a glare and shoved some things from his desk chair. “Here, Connor. Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Connor sat down, rubbing his hands over his thighs nervously.

“So, Steve…how’s your family?” Murphy asked.

“Good.” Steve closed the magazine and sat up. “My mom asked if I ever did laundry while I was here, because I brought so much home.”

Murphy grinned. He loved hearing about Steve’s mother, since he didn’t have a mother of his own, and Mrs. Royal seemed to be such a nice woman. “An’ did ya tell her no, ya just wore it dirty until ya stank ta high Heaven?”

“No, jerk, I didn’t.” Steve finally looked at Connor. “So, Connor…you stayed on campus over the holiday?”

“Yes,” Connor said. “I’m not from around here.” He saw Murphy’s eyes widen. Connor sent him a desperate glance, hoping Murphy would realize that he wasn’t really ready to say anything yet. “It was too far to go home.”

“Slumming it, then?” Steve asked, but Connor refused to rise to the barb. He knew he deserved it.

Murphy sighed. “How about your sister? How’s she doing?”

“Good.” Steve smiled slyly. “She asked about you.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Murphy said, rolling his eyes. Connor’s eyes narrowed at the thought of Steve’s sister asking after Murphy. “Don’t start that again.”

“Here.” Steve picked up a framed photo and handed it to Connor. “There she is. She’s sixteen.”

Connor looked at the picture of a pretty redhead wearing a cheerleader’s uniform. “Cute,” he remarked, handing the picture back.

“And she has it bad for my roommate here,” Steve teased. “After you met, she wouldn’t stop asking about you.”

“My God, Steve, shut up. It’s not like we’re engaged or anythin’. I bet we didn’t say ten words ta each other,” Murphy said. “We only met that weekend they came up an’ I went ta tha city.”

“When you’re sixteen, that’s enough,” Steve said. “Connor, what about you? You seeing anyone?”

“Yes, actually, I am.” Connor studied the pattern of Steve’s sheets, unable to look Murphy in the eye. He knew neither of them was really ready to come out about their relationship.

“Is it serious?”

“You’re awful nosy,” Murphy interrupted.

“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know your new friend,” Steve replied.

“I don’t mind,” Connor said quickly, not wanting the situation to get even more awkward. “It’s still kinda new…but I’d say it’s gotten pretty serious.”

“Cool. You have a single, right? That works out good when you want to have someone up for a weekend,” Steve said. “Lucky you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky.” This time Connor looked Murphy right in the eye when he spoke, and Murphy actually blushed.

“Let’s wait downstairs for them,” Murphy said suddenly. Steve looked at him a bit strangely but pulled on his sneakers and jacket.

“So, Connor…you’re pre-law?” Steve asked as they went downstairs.

“Yeah,” Connor answered. “It’s a lot harder than I thought, but I’m enjoying it.”

“Business law? Corporate?”

“Criminal, originally, but now I’m thinking more along the lines of something having to do with human rights, civil liberties, things like that,” Connor answered. Murphy stared at him, realizing he had never even asked Connor about things like school and ambition. They had been too busy getting into each other’s pants.

Steve held the door for Connor and Murphy. “Impressive.”

“How about you?” Connor sat on the stoop.

“Physics.”

Connor’s eyebrows rose. “Nice. I can barely convert fractions; always sucked at math. Better at debating and proving a point.”

“Well, no wonder you and Murph here are buddy-buddy.” Steve slung an arm around his roommate’s shoulder. “He’s always psychoanalyzing me and what I do.”

“Liar.” Murphy gave Steve an affectionate shove.

“Hey.” Jacob and Will came out the door, staring wide-eyed at the sight of Connor.

“Connor, I don’t know if ya ever met Will an’ Jacob…they’re down tha hall a bit,” Murphy said.

“No, we never met.” Connor held out a hand. Will and Jacob each took it, still a little shocked.

“Fuck, guys, relax,” Murphy said, annoyed. “It’s not like he’s fuckin’ royalty or somethin’.”

“Murphy,” Connor said quietly. “Nice to meet you both.”

“You, too,” Will said finally. “I’m starving. Can we get moving?”

“Sure.” Murphy took off at a fast stride, Connor hurrying to keep up with him.

“What’s this all about?” Jacob asked Steve. “They were at each other’s throats for weeks, and now they’re best friends?”

“They hung out over break,” Steve answered, shrugging. “No clue. I don’t like him, but do you really want to try and tell Murphy what to do?”

“Definitely not,” Jacob replied. Will nodded in agreement.

They caught up with Murphy and Connor and entered the dining hall. “I’m gonna wash my hands,” Connor said to Murphy. “I’ll find you.”

“We usually sit over by the windows,” Murphy said, motioning in the right direction. Connor nodded and went to the bathroom.

After washing his hands, he went through the line, picking up a plate of spaghetti and three pieces of garlic bread. He hit the salad bar after that, and grabbed a few bottles of iced tea and a banana. He paid, balancing everything on his tray carefully. He slowly made his way back through the crowded dining room, in the direction Murphy had indicated. “Yo, Connor!”

Connor turned to see Evan, one of the boys who hung out with Ryan. “Ryan should be here in a bit. Sit with us.”

Connor looked at the small group, all people he had previously spent time with. “Nah, I’m sittin’ somewhere else,” he said, tired of the deception and the work it took to keep up his front. “Got other people ta sit with.”

“Connor, what the fuck?” Another boy said. “MacManus rubbing off on you?”

“Aye,” Connor said with a lazy grin. “I only hope some of him can rub off on me.” Connor plunked his tray down on their table, leaning on his hands. “Ya see, I’ve been hidin’ me true face for too long, boys. This is tha real Connor Flanery. M’Irish and proud of it. An’ if any of ya have a problem with me, with me heritage, or with Murphy MacManus, ya can take it up with me right fist, got it?” He smiled, picked up his tray, and went looking for Murphy.

 

Murphy, who had left the table to go get extra napkins, saw Connor put down his tray at a table filled with the wealthier boys from their dorm. He saw Connor lean forward to talk to them, and his heart sank. He watched their faces registering various degrees of shock, and decided to investigate. 

“An’ if any of ya have a problem with me, with me heritage, or with Murphy MacManus, ya can take it up with me right fist, got it?” He heard Connor say. He couldn’t keep a dazzling smile off his face as he watched Connor pick up his tray and walk away.

“Connor,” he said. Connor saw him a few feet away and blushed. “We’re over there.” Murphy pointed out the table where Will, Steve and Jacob were already seated. “Just gettin’ napkins.” He leaned in close. “An’ if we weren’t in public, I’d be kissin’ ya so hard right now ya’d feel it in yer knees.” Connor blushed even darker and went to sit down.

Connor nodded at the other boys, but didn’t say much until Murphy sat back down. “So…I was wantin’ ta talk ta ya,” Connor began. Murphy stopped eating. “Some thins I felt needed ta get out in tha open.”

Steve plunked down his can of soda. “I knew it,” he said, glaring at Murphy. “Are you really gonna let him treat you like this?”

“Like what?” Murphy blinked at him.

“Like you’re some sort of pet. ‘Oh, look at the clueless Mick. I’m gonna pretend to be his friend, even talk like him.’ And then he’ll drop you on your ass.”

Murphy and Connor jumped to their feet as one, but Connor managed to speak first. “I’d advise ya ta keep yer fuckin’ mouth shut until I have my say. An’ if ya insult my people again, I’ll be punchin’ yer nice teeth up inta yer eyes. Got it?”

Jacob and Will stopped eating. Steve fidgeted a bit. “Okay.”

“Apologize,” Murphy snarled at Steve.

“I didn’t mean it. I was just…I’ll be quiet,” Steve stammered.

“Good.” They sat back down. “I’ve been lyin’ ta everyone fer a while now, an’ realized it was stupid an’ useless.” Connor toyed with his spaghetti. “I’m from Ireland. I’m an American citizen now, but I’ve only lived here a few years. I come from a poor family in a small town. I inherited tha money that I have. I’m not from some rich old family.”

“But why?” Will asked softly.

“Because I wanted ta be somethin’ I thought was better than I really was. I wanted ta BE that rich boy that everyone assumed I was. So I played tha part, hid tha accent, made up a life for m’self.” Connor looked over at Murphy. “But then I realized that there was no shame in bein’ yerself. If ya take pride in what ya are, no one can take it away from ya.” Connor looked at Steve. “I didn’t have friends. Not real friends. Murphy does. An’ he wants ta be MY friend. I realized that I had ta be honest with ya, because you guys are all his good friends…an’ if I wanted ya ta try an’ like me, I had ta be honest with ya.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I know now that it sounds worse for me ta admit I was lyin’, than it would have sounded ta tell tha truth.”

“Promise me ya won’t go tellin’ everyone,” Murphy said. 

“That’s not necessary,” Connor said.

“No need fer everyone ta be talkin’ behind yer back,” Murphy argued.

“No, we won’t,” Steve said, surprising them both. “Not until you tell them yourself, Flanery. It took a lot of guts for you to tell us that, and I respect you for it.” Connor nodded shyly.

“While we’re openin’ up…” Murphy finished his pizza and pushed his tray aside. “There’s somethin’ I need ta tell ya, Steve. I mean, it’s for all of ya, but it concerns Steve most.” Connor’s eyes widened. He knew where this was going. “Steve…I haven’t been completely honest with ya, an’ as me roommate, ya have a right ta know.” Murphy leaned in closer, not wanting his voice to carry. “M’gay, Steve.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“M’gay. As in not straight. As in I like boys,” Murphy said. The corners of Connor’s mouth twitched, but he kept from smiling. “I don’t want ya thinkin’ I’m gonna rape ya in the dead o’ night or anythin’, because, quite honestly, yer not me type. But I wanted ya ta know.”

“Oh.” Steve looked at his food, then looked up at Murphy. “What do you mean, I’m not your type?”

Connor finally let the smile out, chuckling a bit. Murphy smiled as well. “I’m inta boys with a bit o’ meat on their bones, an’ yer so skinny, if ya turned sideways an’ stuck out yer tongue, ya’d look like a zipper.” Will and Jacob cracked up at that. Steve glared at them. “I hope yer not mad at me, an’ I understand if ya want a new roommate or somethin’.”

“I’m not mad,” Steve said. “I don’t understand it, and it grosses me the hell out, but as long as you’re not planning on bringing a guy back from a bar and fucking him in your bed while I’m asleep, I could give a rat’s ass.”

“Fair enough,” Murphy said. “How about you guys?” He looked at Will and Jacob.

“No problem here,” Jacob said, and Will agreed.

Murphy sighed with relief. All of this was going MUCH easier than he expected. “Good.”


	21. Chapter 21

HOME  
Twenty-One

 

After dinner, Connor and Murphy went to the library, telling the other boys that they needed to pick up a few more books for their exams. “That went well,” Murphy said, sighing. “I was worried there for a bit.”

Connor did a double take. “You think it’s just that easy?”

“Innit?” Murphy asked, stopping to light a cigarette.

“Murphy, I’ve been nothin’ but nasty ta ya for ages now. Ya think Steve really believes I’ve reformed? He’s waitin’ fer me ta kick yer ass or somethin’. Trust me.” Connor dug his hands into his coat pockets, watching Murphy shiver against the cold. “Ya know, if ya quit smokin’ we wouldn’t have ta stand out here like this.”

“No one’s makin’ ya,” Murphy shot back.

Connor frowned. “Whatever. See ya later.” He headed up the path and into the library before Murphy could stop him.

“Fuck.” Murphy thought about stomping out his cigarette and hurrying after Connor, but decided against it. Let him throw a fucking temper tantrum. Murphy was finishing his smoke.

When he entered the huge library, Connor was nowhere to be found. Murphy sighed, and went to find the book that he actually did need for one last term paper. When he finished checking out the book, he took a leisurely walk through the stacks, heading for the law section. He found Connor at a table by the window, staring out at the dark campus. He put his book on Connor’s table but didn’t sit. “Yes?” Connor didn’t look at him.

“What tha fuck was that about?” Murphy whispered.

“Ya tell me, Murphy.” Connor turned to look at him, blue eyes serious. “I’m not tryin’ ta get all melodramatic on ya, but yer friend doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know about us. He’s not gonna accept me just that easily.”

“But he said…”

“He accepts my story about Ireland. That much I’ll buy. But otherwise…” Connor shrugged. “Yer his best friend. I can see that. He’s gonna worry about ya.”

“Ya make me sound like a little girl,” Murphy said, realizing it was what had pissed him off so much outside.

“Well, yer actin’ like one,” Connor said, but he smiled as he said it. Murphy took a step back, peering down the stacks around them. He bent down and quickly kissed Connor’s chapped lips. Connor blushed and looked back out the window again, grinning.

When they got back to the dorm, they went their separate ways, wanting nothing more than to spend time together. They knew, however, that too much time together would make people talk, and it was novel enough that they two of them were hanging out at all.

Murphy tossed his things onto his bed, sighing. Steve was on his bed, flipping the channels on their small television set. “Hey,” Murphy said. “Anythin’ good on?”

“I was hoping so…because it would distract me from the fact that I really need to start studying,” Steve said. “But no, nothing’s on.” He turned off the TV and rolled to face Murphy’s side of the room. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just stressin’ about some stuff,” Murphy said, flopping onto his own bed.

“So…you and Flanery hang out a lot over the holiday?”

“Yeah.” Murphy shrugged, trying to play it cool. “He’s not bad, Steve, honest.”

“I believe you…must’ve been hard for him to live that lie.”

“Mmm,” Murphy said noncommittally.

“He’s a helluva actor,” Steve continued.

“Yeah. Hides tha accent better than I ever could.”

“Right. That’s a fact.” 

“You gettin’ somewhere with this, Steve?”

“No,” Steve said innocently. “Just making conversation.”

Murphy frowned and picked up his towel and shower basket. “M’gonna clean up.” He left the room without another word.

“Hey, MacManus,” a voice called. Murphy sighed and slowly turned around. Ryan smiled at him. “I didn’t know if you saw, but someone puked all over the third stall in the bathroom. Thought maybe you could clean it up while you were in there.”

“I’ll think about it,” Murphy said, pretending to ponder the idea. He snapped his fingers. “Ya know what, I think I still have those keys to the rooms that Smecker gave me,” he lied. He smiled slyly. “Make sure an’ check yer shoes every mornin’, Ryan. Never know what ya might find.” He headed to the bathroom without another word.

He was walking back from his shower when he ran into Smecker. “Hey, Smecker.”

“How was your vacation, MacManus?”

Murphy couldn’t stop the beaming smile. “Really good, thanks fer askin’. You?”

“Good.” Smecker studied him for a moment. “Come with me.” He led the way back to his room, shutting the door behind them. “You look like you either got into an amazing amount of trouble, or had an amazing amount of sex.” He lightly touched the healing bruise on Murphy’s face.

Murphy laughed. “How about a bit o’ both? I’m sure ya weren’t exactly celibate on yer little trip.”

“I don’t think we’re talking about me, now, are we?” Smecker sat on a chair and motioned for Murphy to sit down. “Explain. Do I need to sign any forms, talk to the police?”

“Hell, no.” Murphy sat. “Got jumped comin’ out o’ that bar ya sent me to.”

“Christ!” Smecker was shocked. “Did you get seriously hurt?”

“Nah. I fought ‘em off,” Murphy bragged. “Four of ‘em.”

“Oh, really?” Smecker’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, I tried, anyway,” Murphy admitted. “Got a few punches in, but they took me down. Connor Flanery came along, though, an’ helped me out.” He figured he’d be honest about THAT much. As much as he liked and trusted Smecker, he couldn’t come completely clean with him without talking to Connor first.

“Flanery?”

“Yeah…he’s into that martial arts shite…kicked their arses an’ chased ‘em off,” Murphy said. “He brought me back, helped me get cleaned up.”

“And the amazing sex?”

“I’d rather not fuck an’ tell,” Murphy said primly, and Smecker actually laughed. 

 

Connor came back from his last class that Monday totally exhausted. It was almost seven o’clock, he hadn’t had time for lunch or supper, and worst of all, he hadn’t seen one inch of Murphy all day. They knew their schedules were off, but he had hoped to at least see him walking across campus. He tossed his things to the floor, closing the door behind him before flipping on a light. He let out a yell when he saw Murphy in his bed, under the covers. “Fuck me!” Connor gasped, grabbing at a chair to steady himself.

“That sounds like a lot o’ fun,” Murphy said, rolling to hold himself up on one elbow.

Connor’s eyes widened when he saw that Murphy was shirtless. “What tha fuck? How’d ya get in?”

“These doors are older than fuck. Just need ta use yer ID an’ a bit of jigglin’,” Murphy said.

“God, everyone knew that but me,” Connor whined. Murphy looked at him oddly. “Never mind.” Connor leaned back against his door, locking it. “So…”

“So…” The covers fell a bit, and Connor saw the bare arch of Murphy’s hip.

“Yer naked under there,” Connor said softly.

“Aye. Want me ta prove it?” Murphy arched an eyebrow. Connor gulped and nodded. He felt as if it had been an eternity since they’d been alone, instead of just a day or two. Murphy slid out from under the covers and stood by Connor’s bed.

“The day from hell just improved about a hundred fuckin’ percent,” Connor groaned, coming over to grab Murphy by the hair and kiss him.

“Aw, did ya have a bad day?” Murphy asked sympathetically, hands shoving at Connor’s coat.

“Exams are gonna be pure fuckin’ hell, I haven’t eaten all day, an’ I fuckin’ missed ya,” Connor admitted, burying his face in Murphy’s neck.

“Well, I can’t really help ya with tha exams, though I did think we could study tagether, we can get somethin’ from tha machine fer yer belly, an’ as fer tha last…” Murphy tugged off Connor’s t-shirt, thumbs flicking over Connor’s dark nipples. “M’all yers fer now, as long as ya keep quiet.”

“Keep me quiet,” Connor told him, biting his shoulder.

Murphy hissed, making short work of Connor’s belt. Connor toed off his shoes and Murphy pushed down his jeans and boxers. Connor stepped out of them just in time before Murphy was dragging him to the bed. Murphy shoved at his shoulders, and he sat. Murphy picked up his hard cock and ran it along Connor’s lips. “This should keep ya quiet fer a while.”

Connor moaned quietly, taking Murphy in and eagerly sucking. Murphy gasped, steadying himself with a hand on each of Connor’s shoulders. Connor put everything into what he was doing, licking and sucking and caressing Murphy’s cock and balls. Murphy dug his nails in, whimpering. Connor pulled away. “Problem?”

“I need ya inside o’ me,” Murphy whispered, falling to the bed. “Do we still have condoms an’ lube here?”

“Aye.” Connor dug them out, leaning over Murphy to kiss him as he worked the lube over his fingers. “Want ya so bad, Murph.”

“Fuck me hard, Connor. Wanna feel ya all week. Don’t know when we’ll get ta do this again before our weekend t’gether,” Murphy whispered. 

Murphy’s words made Connor almost drop the lube. “Don’t wanna hurt ya, Murph.” His fingers slowly worked their way inside of Murphy.

Murphy’s knees fell apart, his hips hitching. “Don’t care…just want ya…hurry, Connor.”

Connor sheathed himself with the condom, coating it with lubricant. He knelt between Murphy’s legs, slowly guiding himself inside. “Fuck, yer tight,” Connor gasped. He braced himself with a hand on either side of Murphy’s shoulders.

“Kiss me,” Murphy demanded, and Connor did, sucking on Murphy’s tongue as he thrust inside. “Fuck me, Connor…fuck me hard.”

Connor buried his head in Murphy’s neck, slamming home as hard as he could. “Never…felt like this…before…want every part o’ ya.”

“Yesss,” Murphy hissed, digging his fingers into Connor’s backside, urging him on. “Want it…give it ta me…”

“Want ya feelin’ me all week, every time yer arse hits a chair,” Connor told him, pulling back to look into Murphy’s eyes. “In tha library, in class, in yer dorm…yer gonna feel me…remember me cock inside o’ ya like this.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Murphy gasped, the dirty words making him shudder.

“Oh, ya like that?” Connor asked with a grin. “It’ll be just as bad fer me…I’ll go ta sleep every night in this bed, rememberin’ how I was balls deep into ya…how tight ya were fer me…” He reached down to stroke Murphy. “I might not even wash tha sheets…just so I can smell ya.”

“Connor…Connor…” Murphy moaned, getting a bit louder.

“Quiet now. Don’t want tha whole fuckin’ floor hearin’ ya come from tha way I’m fuckin’ ya like we’re dyin' t’morrow,” Connor said, and that was all it took. Murphy grabbed Connor by the hair, pulling him down for a hard kiss as he came. Connor moaned against Murphy’s mouth, thrusting one last time as he came as well.

Connor collapsed onto Murphy as they both panted for breath. “Fuckin’ hell,” Murphy breathed. “Ya kiss yer mother with that mouth? I never heard such talk.”

“Ya complainin’?” Connor asked, kissing Murphy’s shoulder.

“Fuck, no. Never knew ya had it in ya, Pretty.”

Connor smiled against Murphy’s skin. “An’ now we’re supposed ta study?”

“In a minute,” Murphy said, wrapping his arms around Connor. Connor sighed, welcoming the embrace.


	22. Chapter 22

HOME  
Twenty-Two

 

Connor flopped into a chair in the student center, eyes glazed over, hands trembling slightly. “Amendment eight…excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.”

Steve and Murphy stared at him. “Excuse me?” Steve asked.

Connor shook his head. “I just came from my last exam.” He rubbed at his eyes. “We learned about tha Amendments in that Citizenship class I had ta take…an’ if exams aren’t fuckin’ cruel an’ unusual punishment, I don’t know what is. Fuck.” He buried his face in his arms on the table.

Murphy grinned, resisting the urge to rub Connor’s back. “Poor baby,” he cooed. Connor popped him the finger without lifting his head. Murphy laughed out loud. It was Friday, and his exams were over the day before.

“Please don’t act like that,” Steve begged. “I still have one more, at ten, and I’m trying not to think about it.” He had warmed up slightly to Connor, though he was still a bit wary. They were polite to one another, however, and really only hung out together when Murphy was around.

“That’s true,” Murphy said. “Imagine havin’ ta deal with Physics.”

“More power to ya,” Connor said, resurfacing. He gave Steve a sympathetic grin. “I’m so glad my science elective is over after this year.”

“So…what are you two doing over the break?” Steve asked, trying to get away from thinking about exams.

“Goin’ back ta Ireland,” Connor said. “Me Ma is antsin’ ta show me off.”

“I hear that,” Steve said, nodding. “At least you have good grades to show for it. Dad’s gonna flip when he sees this C in English Comp.”

“It’s not yer fault tha class is at eight,” Murphy said loyally. “Tell him that.”

“He plays golf twice a week in the summer, tee time eight-fifteen,” Steve informed him. “I doubt that excuse will hold water.”

“Sorry,” Murphy said. “An’ back ta yer original question, leavin’ this weekend ta drive ta Chicago, ya know that.”

“Right.” Steve sighed. “My family will be here at six to pick me up. Want to come to dinner with us? You can come, too, Connor,” he added generously.

“No, thanks,” Murphy said, refusing to look at Connor. He couldn’t. He knew his face would light up with even the mere thought of their weekend together. “I’m gonna bum around tha city a bit before I leave. Drivin’ Connor in ta tha airport,” he added as an afterthought. Steve didn’t have to know that Connor’s flight didn’t leave until Monday. “Sean down the hall is loanin’ me his car.”

“You’ll be lucky if that bucket o’ bolts makes it ta tha New York border,” Connor said, frowning. He hated the idea of Murphy driving all that way alone, but Murphy refused to take the money for a plane ticket.

“He just had it inspected, an’ I know a bit about cars,” Murphy said, trying not to clench his teeth. They had already been through this argument three times.

Connor stood, not wanting to fight, especially in front of someone else. “Well, I’m gonna go finish packin’. I know I’ll forget somethin’.” He held out his hand. “Steve, have a good holiday.”

“You, too,” Steve said, shaking the offered hand.

“Murphy, I’ll meet ya down at tha far lot?” Connor asked.

“Aye. I’ll be there in a bit. Got a few thins ta do m’self,” Murphy said, nodding.

Steve watched Connor walk away. “He’s not so bad,” he said finally. Murphy hid a smile.

 

Murphy paced at a corner of the parking lot, smoking a cigarette, hands deep in his pockets. He was so anxious to go that he couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t believe his luck. One last long weekend with Connor before they needed to part for days on end. He smiled as he saw Connor struggling with his suitcases and bags. “Hey there, Rich Boy, need a hand?” He called.

Connor smiled. “Yes, I could use one, thank you,” he said in his perfect American accent. Murphy took a few things and helped to load them into the car. Once his hands were empty. Connor reached for his wallet and took out a five-dollar bill. “Here you go, boy. Thank you very much.”

“Fuck off.” Murphy took the money and shoved it into Connor’s mouth. Connor laughed and squirmed away.

“Ya ready ta go?” Connor said in his own accent.

“Like ya wouldn’t believe. Thank God it’s a short drive.”

“A short drive but a world away,” Connor said. “Gimme tha keys.”

“Yer not drivin’.”

“Murph, I know tha city just as well as you do, if not better. Besides, you’ll be drivin’ fer hours soon. Gimme tha fuckin’ keys.”

Murphy handed them over with a sigh. They got in the car and Connor wove his way off campus. “This is fuckin’ cool,” Murphy said. Connor grinned at him. “Are we stayin’ where ya stayed before?”

“I got us a room,” Connor said evasively. He would say nothing more, no matter how much Murphy begged.

Connor felt the stress of the past week flowing from him in waves. Every smile from Murphy, every laugh, every joke, it all worked to make him more relaxed than he’d felt in ages. He couldn’t even think of being away from Murphy for so long, but he knew it was necessary. It was odd; he’d only known Murphy a short time, yet felt as if he had known him well his entire life.

Murphy rolled down the window so he could smoke. “Jesus, Con, be careful!” He yelled as Connor swiftly changed lanes through heavy Boston traffic.

“Fuckin’ city…I swear ta God, all tha streets run one way,” Connor griped. “An’ no side-seat drivin’ from YOU, thank ya very much.”

“Don’t get us killed,” Murphy muttered. His eyes widened as Connor made a turn and pulled to the side of the road. “Connor, what tha fuck?”

“Get out an’ act like a grown up,” Connor murmured under his breath. He got out on the driver’s side, grabbing his backpack and duffel as well as Murphy’s backpack.

“Evening, sir.” A doorman rushed over. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, we’re checking in.” Connor popped the trunk. “These two suitcases, please.”

“Very good, sir. Welcome to the Copley Plaza.”

Connor nodded and led the way into the hotel. “Connor, what tha fuck?” Murphy hissed. “We are not stayin’ in tha Copley fuckin’ Plaza!”

“Well, it’s tha only place I made a reservation so shut tha fuck up an’ c’mon.” Connor went to the counter, smiling his best smile at the snooty-looking clerk. 

“Can I…help you?” The woman’s nose turned up at Murphy’s scruffy jacket.

“Yes…Marjorie,” Connor said, reading her nametag. “My name is Connor Flanery, and I have a reservation.”

“Really?” She looked surprised, but looked at her computer. Her eyes widened. “Yes, Mr. Flanery! We have your suite ready.” She snapped her fingers at a bellhop.

“Suite?” Murphy said under his breath. Connor ignored him.

“George, the Presidential Suite,” Marjorie said. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Flanery.”

“Thank you. We will.” Connor followed the bellhop to the elevator, Murphy mutely dogging his heels while trying not to stare. They got out on the correct floor, the hotel employee opening the door to their suite.

“I’m sure everything you need is here, but if you find anything lacking, please do not hesitate to contact the front desk,” the young man said, opening the door to the two bathrooms. 

“Thank you.” Connor pressed some money into his hand, nodding as their bags were dropped off. The bellhop left, and they were alone.

“What tha fuckin’ hell?” Murphy yelled. “Connor…”

“Look at that view.” Connor went to the windows. “City looks almost pretty from here.”

“Connor, you said you’d get a room, that you’d need it anyway, so you would pay for it. This…this is too fuckin’ much.” Murphy looked around. “I’m afraid I’ll break somethin’.”

“C’mere.” Connor took Murphy by the hand. “True, we won’t get much use out of that.” He pointed at the dining room table. “But check THIS out.” He went into the bedroom. “King sized bed. Lots of room for us. An’ tha bathroom? Marble floors. Whirlpool tub.” He slid an arm around Murphy’s waist.

“I’m a sure thin’, ya know. Ya don’t need ta buy me.”

Connor moved away, face pale. “Is that what ya think?”

“It didn’t come out right.” Murphy shook his head.

“This is your Christmas present, Murphy. I…I thought it would be special. A way for us to spend our time together before break. I’m sorry if it’s such a bad idea.”

“Christ, Connor, no.” Murphy grabbed Connor and pulled him in for a kiss. He pressed his forehead against Connor’s. “No one’s ever treated me like this before. I’m not quite sure how ta handle it all.” He looped his fingers in Connor’s jeans. “I’m just a low-life killer.”

“Stop.” Connor ran a hand through Murphy’s hair. “That’s not all ya are, Murph, just like I’m not a rich kid. Yer more than that, especially ta me.”

“I don’t have a gift like this for YOU,” Murphy said, sighing.

“It’s not about what it cost,” Connor protested. “Look. If ya can’t be comfortable here, we’ll check out this second an’ go somewhere else.”

“Fuck, no!” Murphy poked Connor in the gut. “I wanna get in that whirlpool tub.”

Connor grinned, taking off his coat. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

They spent almost an hour in the tub, and the next four hours in bed. There was a lot of talking, a lot of kissing, and a lot of lovemaking, until they finally fell asleep. When Connor woke up, he was surprised to see the room getting dark. “Fuck, what time is it?”

Murphy groaned. “Dunno.”

Connor leaned up on one elbow to check the clock. “Goin’ on five.” His stomach rumbled. “Christ. I’m starvin’. We missed lunch.”

“Didn’t I make up for it?” Murphy smiled sleepily. 

“Tart.” Connor snuggled back down next to him. “What do ya want ta do?”

“I’m happy doin’ just this.” Murphy rolled to lay his head on Connor’s chest. Connor’s stomach gurgled again, making Murphy jump. “Fuck, Conn, I better feed ya, or that thing will kill me.”

“Shut up.” Connor pulled Murphy’s hair.

“I’ll take ya ta dinner. Least I can do, after all this.”

“This isn’t a contest,” Connor said.

“I know.” Murphy stretched and got out of bed, flipping on a bedside lamp.

Connor rolled onto his back, hands behind his head, smiling as he looked at Murphy’s naked body. “Now THAT’S a sight that will keep me warm when I’m home in Ireland.”

“Really?” Murphy let a hand trail down his chest seductively, then laughed. “M’gonna shower. Someone got me all sticky and sweaty.”

“Who?” Connor asked innocently. Murphy gave him a dirty look. “I’ll join ya.”

“Ya better not,” Murphy said. “Or we’ll miss dinner, too.” Connor snickered and flipped on the TV as Murphy headed for the bathroom. “I can’t believe how nice this place is,” Murphy called out.

“Better be, for what I’m payin’,” Connor muttered to himself.

They both showered and dressed, making it out the door by six-thirty. After asking at the desk, they made their way to a cozy Italian restaurant a few blocks away. The prices were exorbitant, but the food was good and the atmosphere almost romantic. After looking around shyly, Murphy reached for Connor’s hand, holding it on the table. “I think that’s tha best part of this little trip.”

“Aye. No one knows us here,” Connor replied, smiling. “M’gonna miss ya somethin’ fierce, Murph.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Murphy said immediately. “Unless ya want me ta break down like a little girl.”

“I’d like to see that,” Connor said, and was answered with a growl from Murphy.

They ate a huge dinner and slowly walked back to the hotel hand in hand. “This is perfect,” Murphy said with a sigh.

Connor’s face lit up as a snowflake hit his cheek. “No. NOW it’s perfect.”

“You an’ yer fuckin’ snow,” Murphy grumbled. “Next you’ll be sayin’ we should move ta Alaska.”

“We could hunt and fish ta stay fed, stay in a cozy cabin all alone,” Connor cajoled. Murphy smiled.

“That thought has its merits, true.”

“Thought so.” Connor leaned forward and buried his face against Murphy’s neck. 

“Fuck! Yer nose is freezin’!”

“Better get me back an’ warm me up, then,” Connor said with a sly grin, throwing his arm around Murphy’s shoulders.

“Yer lucky yer so hot, or I’d be droppin’ yer arse right here for that.” Murphy rubbed at his skin. Connor laughed and dove in again, rubbing against Murphy in an exaggerated manner. “Fuck off!” Murphy yelled, then blushed.

 

“And now we have to go all the way back out to the highway,” Mr. Royal grumbled.

“Dad, it wasn’t my idea to come into town for dinner,” Steve reminded him.

“Dear, just relax. It was a nice dinner,” Mrs. Royal said.

“Where’s that valet?” Mr. Royal looked around. 

Steve rolled his eyes. His parents had decided that they needed a special dinner to celebrate the end of the semester, and his sister had begged to come into Boston to eat. They had decided on The Oak Room at the Copley, and while the food was fantastic, it really wasn’t worth hearing his father gripe about the cost, the traffic, and the time wasted when they could be on the road. He heard a scuffle, watching two men playfully shove at each other. He grinned as the one swore, sounding an awful lot like his roommate, Murphy. Steve’s eyes widened as he recognized the beat up denim jacket the louder boy wore. It WAS Murphy. 

Steve raised his hand and opened his mouth to call out, but froze as the other man threw himself at Murphy, nuzzling at his neck. Murphy caught the man around the waist, shoving at him before pulling him in for a long kiss. Murphy ruffled the man’s hair, then led the way across the street. It was only when they made it to the sidewalk that Steve realized the person on the receiving end of Murphy’s kisses and affection was Connor Flanery.


	23. Chapter 23

HOME  
Twenty-Three

 

The Royal’s car was brought around just as Murphy and Steve made eye contact. “Isn’t that your roommate, Steve?” His sister asked, blushing a bit.

“Yes,” Steve said. 

He watched Murphy immediately push away from Connor, who looked hurt. Connor did a double take as he caught sight of Steve. “Steve, hey,” Murphy said finally, jamming his fists in his pockets as he walked over. “What tha hell are ya doin’ here?”

“We, uh, came into town for dinner,” Steve said finally. “You, um, remember my family.”

“Mr. an’ Mrs. Royal, how are ya?” Murphy asked politely.

“Murphy! What a nice surprise!” Mrs. Royal gave him a hug. “I didn’t know you’d be here. You should have come with us.”

“Thank you, Steve did ask me. I’m only in town ta help out a friend.” He turned to indicate Connor. “Connor Flanery, this is Steve’s family, the Royals.”

“Hello, there,” Mr. Royal said. Connor nodded and smiled at them in turn.

“Connor’s from Ireland, and catches a flight back this weekend. I offered ta drive him inta town,” Murphy explained.

“Good to see you, Murphy,” Mr. Royal said, tipping the valet and climbing into the car.

“Have a nice holiday, Murphy. Call us if you need anything,” Mrs. Royal said.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank ya.” Mrs. Royal and her daughter climbed into the car, the teenager’s eyes wide as she stared adoringly at Murphy. “Steve…”

“No.” Steve held up a hand. “We’ll talk about this when we get back. Happy fucking holidays.” He climbed into the car without a word.

Murphy watched them drive away. “Fuck. That wasn’t quite how I pictured him findin’ out.”

“Really?” Connor turned on a heel and strode into the hotel.

“Connor?” Murphy ran after him, slowing down once they were in the lobby of the hotel. 

“Not here,” Connor hissed. He said nothing more until they were in the suite and he was tossing the keycard onto a table. “How exactly DID ya picture him findin’ out, if at all?”

“Well, just, I don’t know, different. Where we sat him down an’ talked ta him about it.”

“Are ya sure ya even want him ta know, Murph? I mean, it’s obvious that he disapproves.” Connor went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

“What crawled up yer arse?”

“I don’t appreciate bein’ treated that way, Murphy.”

“What way?”

“Like I’ve got tha fuckin’ plague. As soon as he saw ya, ya shoved me away like it burned ya ta touch me.” Connor took a long drink. “I understand that he’s yer best friend, an’ that it was all sudden, but Christ. He fuckin’ SAW me all over ya. No need ta try an’ cover it up.”

“Gut reaction,” Murphy said softly. He made no attempt to touch Connor. “Look, Connor, not only have I never been in a situation where I HAD someone ta hide, but I’ve also never had anyone I cared enough ta hide somethin’ from. I didn’t think, I just did. M’sorry.” He bit at his lip. “I also wanted ta talk ta ya about what we’d tell people before we ever told them.”

Connor drank more water and capped the bottle. “I forgive ya. M’sorry. M’actin’ like a baby.”

“No. It’s okay.” Murphy finally allowed himself to touch Connor, running his hands up over Connor’s arms before pulling him into a hug. “I’m startin’ ta get tha feelin’ that nothin’ about this relationship is gonna be easy.”

“I’m thinkin’ that’s a fuckin’ understatement,” Connor said into Murphy’s shoulder. Murphy chuckled. “Didya see that look on his face?”

“He was pretty shocked,” Murphy said. “Ah, well. He’ll get over it. Probably just pissed because I didn’t really tell him tha truth. Not my place ta talk about yer sexuality.”

“True.” Connor twined his fingers with Murphy’s, letting their arms fall to their sides. “Ya know, ya COULD make it up ta me,” he cajoled.

“Make what up ta ya?”

“Shovin’ me away like I meant nothin’ ta ya,” Connor said, but smiled to lighten his words.

“Wouldn’t want ya ta feel worthless,” Murphy grinned, grabbing Connor’s waist and pulling him close. Their mouths met, tongues flicking gently before the kiss intensified. “Anythin’ special ya had in mind?”

“I could think of a few things.” Connor’s head dipped as Murphy’s mouth slid to taste the velvet of his neck. “That’s a good start.”

“I live ta serve,” Murphy murmured low in Connor’s ear.

Connor’s hand slid up to fist in Murphy’s hair. “That reminds me of somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ of…willin’ ta try?”

“Always willin’ ta try,” Murphy said, intrigued. He smiled wickedly. “Is it kinky?”

“Maybe not…I’m still so new ta all this, I don’t know what kinky really is,” Connor admitted.

“Is it somethin’ that gets ya hot thinkin’ about it, but at the same time sorta embarrasses ya?” Murphy asked, his fingers nimbly unbuttoning Connor’s shirt.

“Aye,” Connor said, shivering as Murphy’s hands ghosted over his bare skin.

“Then it’s kinky. An’ if the words ‘kinky’ an’ ‘Connor’ are in tha same sentence, I am willin’ ta try it,” Murphy said, a thumb flicking over Connor’s nipple.

“Ah, fuck,” Connor said, pulling Murphy in for a kiss. “Get naked now.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow at Connor’s order, but did as he was told. Connor went to the bedroom and came back out with lube and a condom. Murphy stared at Connor, who now wore only his jeans. His skin was slightly flushed, but Murphy wasn’t sure if it was shyness or arousal coloring the dark skin. “Okay, now what?”

Connor grabbed him by the hair and led him through the suite. “Shut tha fuck up.”

“Fuck!” Murphy yelled, trying to follow where he was being led.

“Hate tha fact that I’m spendin’ all this money on this suite, an’ we’re not makin’ good use of every single inch.” He led Murphy to the dining area, stopping by the gleaming wooden table. “So, thought we could improvise.” He shoved Murphy down so he was bent over the edge. 

Murphy hissed as the cool surface came in contact with his naked skin. His hands clawed for purchase, but the table was too wide for him to grab onto the opposite side. “What do ya want me ta do?”

“Keep quiet ‘til I tell ya ta scream,” Connor said, lubing up a finger and sliding it inside before Murphy knew what was happening. Murphy moaned, biting down on his bottom lip. His hands clenched into fists as Connor’s one finger quickly became two. “Looked at this table today an’ thought about how pretty ya’d look bent over it, takin’ me cock in yer arse.” Connor licked a line up Murphy’s back. “Sound like a good idea ta you?” Murphy mutely nodded. Connor undid his jeans, letting them fall around his ankles. “M’thinkin’ yer probably tha best tasting thin’ ever laid out on this table.” He slid the condom down, half afraid to touch himself. He had never felt so turned on. “Ya want me?” He teased at Murphy’s opening, slightly pushing in, then pulling back out. “Tell me.”

“Connor, ya fuckin’ cocktease, just do it,” Murphy moaned.

Connor fisted his hand in Murphy’s hair, yanking him back into a partial standing position. “Demanding little slut, aren’t ya?” He slid all the way home, loving the moan of relief he heard in response. He pushed Murphy back down to the table, grabbing him hard at the hips with one hand. The other stayed buried in Murphy’s dark hair. “Still want ta shove me away, Murphy?”

“No, fuck, no,” Murphy moaned. 

“Maybe if yer lucky, I’ll forgive ya enough ta let ya come,” Connor said sharply, and Murphy was actually reminded of the rich boy he had met at the beginning of the semester. Connor meant what he said. Murphy’s pleasure was at Connor’s command. Connor changed his angle slightly, and Murphy’s hiss told him he hit what he was seeking. “Yer so good for me, so tight…fuck, yeah…” Connor pulled Murphy up a bit, moaning when he saw the streak of liquid Murphy’s cock was dribbling on the expensive table. “Ask me.”

“Please, Connor, anythin’ ya want, I’ll do it…touch me, please…” Murphy begged, shocking even himself. He had never felt anything like the way Connor twisted his insides, making him feel like nothing else mattered but Connor’s touch, Connor’s mouth, Connor’s cock.

“Ya ask so sweet,” Connor said, reaching down to stroke Murphy’s cock. “Ya better come before I do, Murph, or I’m gonna make ya lick tha table clean.”

“Fuckin’ hell!” Murphy yelled, coming hard and fast onto the table.

Connor clutched Murphy to him, thrusting erratically a few times before coming as well. He held Murphy close to him, not wanting to let him lay in the mess on the table. “Murphy,” he whispered, kissing Murphy’s back and shoulder. “Did I hurt ya? Are ya okay?”

“I think ya broke me,” Murphy said, laughing weakly. “Fuck.”

“Bathroom,” Connor said, and they held each other up as they went to the sink in the large bathroom. Murphy collapsed onto the toilet.

“Fuck…” Murphy said again, staring up at Connor in awe. “Ya been takin’ classes or somethin’ that I don’t know about?”

“What?” Connor asked, blushing.

“Talkin’ all dirty, gettin’ all dom on me…Christ.” Murphy grabbed a cloth and began to wipe himself off.

“I told you I’d been thinkin’ about it…didn’t know how it would go.” Connor couldn’t look at himself in the mirror.

“Connor, I have been a lot of places, seen a lot of weird shite.” Murphy turned Connor to face him and gently kissed him. “That was the single, most hottest thing I have ever seen, heard or felt in my entire fuckin’ LIFE.”

“Oh. Good.” Connor smiled and actually giggled.

“Did I earn yer forgiveness?”

“Aye,” Connor said, kissing him. “Let’s shower an’ get ta bed. It’s early, but m’fuckin’ exhausted.”

“I wonder why. We’ve fucked more than we’ve done anythin’ else today,” Murphy pointed out. Connor grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Not that I’m complainin’,” Murphy added quickly.

“Thank God fer our youth…quicker recovery time,” Connor said, and Murphy snickered.


	24. Chapter 24

HOME  
Twenty-Four

 

“Murphy.”

“Fuck.” Murphy turned and burrowed deeper under the covers, hiding his head under his pillow. “Too early. Weekend. Go ‘way.”

“Murrrrrphy…” the voice continued to singsong. “We’re goin’ ta breakfast, an’ shoppin’, remember?”

“I hate shoppin’.” Murphy turned onto his stomach, fists tight up against his chest. He was NOT getting up. Especially when he didn’t have the money to really GO shopping.

“Murphy.” He felt warm hands massage at his ass before moving up to the small of his back. “Ya know what I dreamt last night? I dreamt that I woke ya up, not by talkin’ ta ya, but by suckin’ ya, first gentle, then hard, ‘til ya came in me mouth. An’ ya weren’t even fully awake by tha time ya came. Can ya imagine how intense that’d be, almost like a dream?” Warm lips danced over his spine.

“That’s fuckin’ evil.” Murphy pulled the pillow off his head. “I can’t lay like this now. Fuckin’ hurts.” He rolled onto his back to relieve the pressure on his suddenly rock-hard cock.

“Mornin’,” Connor said with a grin. He straddled Murphy’s waist, making sure to sit far back on his legs. “Get up.”

“Why?” Murphy whined, his hands running over Connor’s bare thighs. Connor was a gorgeous sight first thing in the morning, toned body golden and tan, seeming to glow in the morning light.

“Because ya said ya would.” Connor bent down to kiss Murphy’s nose. “Want ta get some clothes for t’night.”

“My clothes are fine,” Murphy grumbled. “Christ, Connor, it’s not like yer lookin’ ta pick me up again. Unless ya want me ta get picked up by someone else.”

“Not fuckin’ likely.” Connor slapped Murphy’s stomach hard.

“Ow! Fuck!” Murphy laughed through his pain. “Sadistic little bastard.”

“I was also thinkin’ of buyin’ yer Christmas gift,” Connor cajoled. Murphy’s smile dimmed slightly. His gift was like nothing Connor could afford to buy.

“Ya don’t need ta buy me anythin’,” Murphy said softly. “Just remember ta come back ta me from Ireland.”

Connor smiled at him. “Ya don’t have ta worry about that. I’ll be thinkin’ of ya tha whole time I’m there.”

“I’d really rather just sleep, Con. That’d be a good gift for me,” Murphy protested.

“Fine,” Connor huffed, and got off the bed. “Lazy bastard. I’ll go m’self, then. Stores open at nine, an’ it’s eight-thirty now.”

“Ya could bring me coffee an’ some pastries,” Murphy suggested, burrowing back down in the bed.

“Ya could fuck off, too,” Connor called out from the bathroom. Murphy snickered before falling back to sleep.

 

Murphy woke up around eleven, and Connor was still not back. He took a shower, wrapping himself in the plush robe provided by the hotel when he was done. He pulled a small package out of his duffel bag, wrapped in plain brown paper. He knew it wouldn’t be good enough, but he just hoped Connor would recognize the love and time that had gone into it. 

He heard the lock of the door, and quickly shoved the item back into his bag. He went to the windows, pretending not to notice Connor coming in. “Murph, a hand?”

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear ya there.” Murphy padded over in bare feet to grab some bags.

“Well, don’t ya look all comfy an’ rested,” Connor said sarcastically. His cheeks were red from the cold, and he was bundled in a heavy coat and scarf. He handed a few bags to Murphy. “An’ yer coffee an’ breakfast are in tha third bag, ya selfish idiot.”

“I knew ya loved me.” Murphy gave Connor a smacking kiss and took two more bags. “Didya leave anythin’ in tha stores?” Murphy said in wonder.

“A few things,” Connor teased. “Sit down an’ eat yer breakfast…I mean, brunch,” he corrected, glancing at the large grandfather clock. “I’ll show ya what yer wearin’ t’night.”

“Oh, ya think so?” But Murphy sat down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, eagerly tearing into the apple Danish and coffee.

“I didn’t bother with yer shoes. Figured yer boots were good enough,” Connor told him. “An’ I’m no trendsetter, but I know what I think ya’d look hot in, an’ that’s what I got ya.” He held out a pair of black pants.

Murphy choked on his coffee. “Those are NOT leather.”

“Not really. Kinda like leather. Tight like leather,” Connor said, sighing as he ran his hand over the backside of the pants. 

“I’m not wearin’ leather pants, Connor,” Murphy argued.

“Yes, ya are,” Connor said, his tone imposing and unrelenting. “I say so.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then ya will be headin’ ta Chicago as chaste as tha day ya were born,” Connor said, his expression so serious that it made Murphy laugh. 

“Okay, we’ll see about those pants. What else?” Murphy was interested in spite of himself.

“This.” He pulled out a blue-grey shimmering piece of fabric. It didn’t sparkle, exactly, but seemed to catch the light whenever it moved. He held it up for Murphy to see.

“Is that see-through?”

“Almost, but not quite.” Connor beamed at him.

“Fuck,” Murphy said, running a hand through his hair.

Connor’s smile faded. “It’s all returnable. I know ya don’t like ta shop, an’ I thought…”

“It’s fine. Thank ya.” Murphy knew that Connor had taken his time to pick out what he thought was best. “Want me ta try them on?”

“Yes,” Connor said, the smile returning.

Murphy took the shirt and pants, grumbling the entire way to the bathroom. He turned away from the mirror, quickly dropping the robe and pulling the pants on. It was a bit harder than he thought, as they clung like a second skin. There was no way he could wear anything under them, which was fine with him, and, he knew, would be fine with Connor, too. The shirt whispered as it went over his head. It was tight as well, especially over his broad shoulders and thick biceps. Murphy sighed and ran a hand through his hair before turning to look at himself in the mirror. “Holy fuck,” he whispered, hardly recognizing himself. It was not something he would have ever chosen on his own, yet it looked perfect.

“Everything okay in there?” Murphy could hear the concern in Connor’s voice.

“Yeah!” Murphy took a deep breath and opened the door. “Don’t laugh,” he warned.

Connor’s mouth dropped open. He had envisioned how Murphy might look in the clothes, but the vision was nothing compared to the reality. Connor shut his mouth, then opened it again. “Well,” he said, then flushed at the very unmanly squeak that came out instead of his voice. “I’m returnin’ them.”

“Why?” Murphy turned and tried to see himself from all angles. “Is it that bad?”

“M’not lettin’ ya anywhere dressed like that,” Connor said, his voice husky. He walked over to grab Murphy by the backside, pulling him close. “Fuck, yer hot. I thought ya would be, when I saw these in tha store, but Christ.” His mouth dipped down to tongue Murphy’s nipple through the shirt. 

“God, Connor,” Murphy gasped, clutching at Connor’s hair. “I’ll never take these off again, promise.”

Connor laughed against Murphy’s chest and stood back up. “We may get arrested fer all tha things I’ll want ta do ta ya on tha dance floor.” He went to another bag. “I bought these clothes fer fun, but this is yer present. I hope ya like it. I just…I want ya ta have it. No refusin’.”

“I have tha right ta refuse,” Murphy said. Connor glared at him. “Fine. I promise I’ll love it,” he said, holding out his hand. Connor handed him the bag. Murphy reached in and pulled out a heavy black winter coat. “Connor…” Murphy pulled it on over the blue shirt. It was thick and warm, and exactly what he needed and was saving to buy. “I can’t take this.”

“Chicago gets cold, I hear,” Connor said, walking over to button the front of the coat and flip up the collar. “All that wind from tha lake an’ all.”

“It’s too much.”

Connor grabbed the lapels of the coat and gently shook Murphy. “Murphy, ya’ve given me somethin’ I’ve never thought I find, in tha last place I expected ta find it. Please don’t see dollar signs, just see…see how I feel for ya. How much I’ll miss ya, how happy we’ll be after tha holiday when we’re back t’gether.”

Murphy blinked hard. He didn’t cry. “Connor…I just feel like I’m not good enough for ya.”

“You’re too good,” Connor insisted. “So shut tha fuck up an’ say thank ya.”

“Thank ya, Connor.” Murphy gave him a long, tender kiss. “Hold up, I’m fuckin’ boilin’ in this thing.” Connor smiled as Murphy took off the coat.

“Let me get outta these clothes. Don’t wanna ruin them before I get tha chance ta really wear them.” Murphy went to the bedroom and took off the new clothes, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He then went to his duffle and pulled out the package he had been looking at earlier. He took a deep breath. “I know this is nothin’ like what you’ve given me, but I just…I wanted ta do it for ya.”

“Okay,” Connor said, looking at him strangely. He undid the paper and string and stared. “Oh, Murph.” He ran a finger over the framed drawing of the two of them. He sat with Murphy’s arm around his shoulders, and their faces were leaning in towards each other, happy smiles on their faces. “This is…”

“Figured if ya wanted a picture from me so bad, ya shouldn’t have ta steal it,” Murphy gently teased, referring to the drawing Connor had taken from his notebook all those weeks before. “It’s not much.”

“It’s fuckin’ brilliant.” Connor crushed Murphy to him, his lips meeting Murphy’s in a passionate kiss. “I love it. Love YOU.”

“Love you, too,” Murphy said, the intensity of his feelings frightening him a little.


	25. Chapter 25

HOME  
Twenty-Five

 

“I can’t live without your love and affection…I can’t stand another night on my own…”

Murphy shook his head at the warbled tune coming from the large bathroom. He toweled himself off and began to dress in the new clothes. Connor was sexy, Connor was smart, Connor was a lot of things…but he couldn’t sing. At the last minute, Murphy remembered the tags on the clothing, and had to remove it again so he could carefully rip them off. He dressed once more, and was lacing up his boots when Connor came out. “Ya know, I may just have time fer a nap, it’s takin’ ya so long,” Murphy teased.

“Hey, not my fault it takes me longer ta get beautiful,” Connor growled, toweling his hair. Murphy sat on the edge of the bed, watching water drip down the toned chest. He sighed, a goofy smile on his face. “What?” Connor asked suspiciously.

“You’re fuckin’ hot,” Murphy said. Connor actually blushed.

“Well, thank ya very much. Yer not too bad yerself.”

Murphy snorted and finished with his boots. He went to the mirror and started fussing with his hair. “I can’t believe we’re goin’ ta tha bar again. We can’t drink this time.”

“I don’t need ta drink. We all know what happens between you an’ me when we drink,” Connor said, drying his legs.

“It’s nothin’ worse than what happens when we’re sober,” Murphy said with a grin. Connor made a face at him in the mirror.

“I just think it’ll be fun ta go out somewhere an’ not have ta hide anythin’.” Connor went to the closet and pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. The pants were beige suede, and he actually had to shimmy himself into them. “We can just be ourselves, no one will care.” His shirt was dark red, and he buttoned it almost all the way, cuffing the sleeves at his forearms. “Don’t you agree?” No answer. Connor looked at Murphy, who was leaning on the dresser, hairbrush in hand. “Murph?”

“Huh?” Murphy said. 

“You’re starin’ at me.”

“No, I’m not.” Murphy slapped the brush down and ambled over. “I’m LEERIN’ at ya. There’s a difference.” His hands slid from Connor’s waist to his backside. “Holy fuck, Con. How tha hell did ya get inta these?”

Connor grinned. “Ya like ‘em? I’ve only worn them once.”

“Ya may not have them on long at all,” Murphy murmured.

Connor gently shoved him away. “Behave.”

“Do ya really want that?” Murphy pouted.

“No, but I’m cravin’ a hot dog, an’ I want it now.” Connor dug around for socks and shoes.

“I’ll give ya a hot dog,” Murphy muttered, but moved away to let Connor finish dressing.

 

It was nice, Murphy reflected, to walk up the street with Connor, hand-in-hand, and not feel like the shite might get kicked out of them at any given moment. Connor’s gloved fingers were woven tightly through his, and Murphy almost didn’t feel the cold. They handed over their IDs to the bouncer, stomping and shivering until he decided that they really were 18. They had the underage bracelets slapped around their wrists, checked their coats, and wove their way into the club.

“I was rememberin’ today how shocked I was ta see ya here that night,” Murphy yelled over the music.

“Aye,” Connor said. “It was all so new ta me, an’ I was determined ta get laid that night…never thought just who I’d get laid by.”

“M’self as well,” Murphy said with a grin. “No regrets, though.”

“Definitely not, though tha next mornin’ I was wonderin’ what tha hell I had gotten m’self into,” Connor said. Murphy gave him a shove. “Also remember that I was damn surprised that ya could dance.”

“I’m full of surprises, didn’t ya know?” Murphy said, arching an eyebrow.

Connor started backing away from him towards the dance floor. “Remind me.”

Murphy growled and followed after him. Connor began to move, and Murphy stood behind him, just like the first time they had met this way. Both of them wore such tight pants that Murphy could feel his cock against Connor’s ass as if there was no fabric at all between them. “I remember wishin’ we could just fuck out here on tha dance floor.”

Connor moaned, reaching up to fist a hand in Murphy’s hair. “Keep talkin’ that dirty talk an’ it might just happen,” he groaned.

Murphy chuckled in Connor’s ear. “Behave. Yer gonna be a lawyer. Can’t have ya gettin’ arrested for indecent exposure.”

Connor turned around, arms over Murphy’s shoulders as he ground and writhed against him. “Yer tha indecent one, not me.”

“Christ, I wish I could move like that,” Murphy breathed against Connor’s mouth. He could keep up fairly well on the dance floor, especially for someone as basically ungraceful as he was, but Connor was like liquid sex.

“You can. I’ve seen it.” Connor nibbled on Murphy’s bottom lip. “’Course, ya were horizontal at tha time.”

“I need somethin’ ta drink,” Murphy panted, knowing he was inches away from throwing Connor up against the closest flat surface and fucking him. He blindly pushed his way across the dance floor, heading for the bar. He heard Connor laughing behind him, though Connor remained in the mob of dancing bodies. “Fuckin’ tart.” Murphy gripped the railing of the bar. “Coke, please?”

“Is that your boyfriend?” The man to his left said. The man was attractive, taller than Murphy and seeming to be in his late twenties.

“Aye,” Murphy said proudly. “He’s my boyfriend.” He blinked as he realized he had never said those words out loud to anyone but Connor.

“You’re very lucky.” The man’s eyes were glued to Connor’s wiggling form.

“Yeah, I am.” Murphy took huge gulps of his soda. “An’ very possessive, so don’t be gettin’ any ideas, hear?” He finished his drink and wove his way back to Connor.

After they were in the club about a half hour, a slow ballad came on, and men began to pair up and snuggle close. “I’ve been waitin’ ta do this, ya know,” Connor said, one hand on Murphy’s waist, one hand in Murphy’s hair.

“Do what?”

“Dance with ya. Like this.” Connor buried his face in Murphy’s neck. “I sound like a fuckin’ pussy, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it.”

“Aw, I always knew ya were a girl at heart,” Murphy cooed. “Suspected it on Thanksgivin’, an’ now I know fer sure.”

“Keep it up an’ YOU’LL be a girl, fer real,” Connor snapped, raising his head to glare at Murphy. Murphy threw his head back and howled.

“Christ, but I love ya, Connor.”

“Love you, too,” Connor said, and Murphy grew serious. “Gonna miss ya so fuckin’ much. Won’t even be able ta call ya…won’t know where ya are.”

“Ya can give me yer Ma’s number,” Murphy suggested.

“No…it costs too much, an’ ya already said ya won’t take a calling card from me,” Connor said. “We’ll just have ta deal.”

“Aye.” Murphy pulled Connor closer.

 

They slept hard that night, waking up late and spending the day in a lazy fashion, lounging around the suite until afternoon, and then bumming their way around Boston, poking in and out of the quaint shops, and snacking on junk food all day long. 

They couldn’t say the same about Sunday night. Their lovemaking that night was just that: lovemaking. Not that it wasn’t fierce, and passionate, and at times bordered on violent, but it had a different emotion stoking the fire. Murphy’s hands roamed everywhere, as if to verify that Connor was really still there above him, driving inside, and Connor’s fingers dug into Murphy’s shoulders as he came, leaving marks that would stay with Murphy for days.

Neither of them slept well, unable to rest at the thought that when they’d wake up, they’d be separated for weeks. It unsettled them both; they knew that many couples kept up a long distance relationship ALL the time. Why did this bother them so? They packed in silence Monday morning, and it was with heavy hearts that Connor signed them out of the hotel and Murphy had the valet bring the car around. They drove to the airport in silence, and it was only when Murphy started to steer the car to the hourly parking lot that Connor spoke.

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“Just drop me out front.”

“Connor, ya have ta wait…”

“I don’t want ya ta wait with me.”

“Oh.” Murphy steered towards the passenger drop off area.

“It’s not like that. It’s just…I won’t get on tha fuckin’ plane if yer waitin’ at tha gate with me,” Connor said. “I don’t want it ta be like that. Just drop me out front, get me bags out, an’ kiss me goodbye.”

Murphy was silent, pouting a bit. He could see the sense of Connor’s words, however, and did as he was told. He pulled up in front of the doors, letting the engine idle. He waved away an approaching skycap, getting Connor’s bags out himself as Connor checked everything at the outdoor ticket counter. He buried his nose in the collar of his new coat as he waited, dreaming that he could smell Connor on it. Connor nodded, smiled, and came over to him. “All done?”

“Aye,” Connor said, sniffing at the cold. He looked at Murphy’s pale face. “Take fuckin’ care o’ yerself, Murph. It’s a long drive.”

“I will. I’ll look both ways before I cross anythin’,” Murphy promised with a weak grin. “You be careful, too.”

“I will.” They looked at each other, then fell into the embrace at the same time. “I love ya, Murph. So fuckin’ much.”

“Love ya, too, Connor.” They kissed, ignoring the dirty looks they knew they were receiving. “Bring me a present,” Murphy said when they pulled apart.

“Me comin’ back should be present enough,” Connor teased, then grinned. He briefly touched Murphy’s shoulder, then headed into the airport before he could climb into Murphy’s coat and hide there forever.


	26. Chapter 26

HOME  
Twenty-Six

 

Connor yawned and shouldered his bag. He rubbed at his eyes when he got off the train, inhaling the familiar scent of home. “Connor!”

He turned to see his mother standing a few feet away. “Ma.” He swept her up in a hug, smelling smoke and booze and everything that was his mother.

“Christ, look at ya.” She pulled back to look at him. “Ya grew like a weed, didn’t ya?” 

“It hasn’t been that long since I’m home, Ma,” he protested, but he couldn’t stop grinning. Except for the fact that Murphy wasn’t here, there was no place he’d rather be. “Ya look good.”

“Been workin’ at tha bar nights, but otherwise I don’t do anythin’ but sit on me fat arse,” she said with a cackle. “Let’s get yer bags.”

They shoved their way through the tiny station, retrieving Connor’s suitcases. “I got it, Ma. Stop.” He removed her hand from the handle of one of his suitcases.

“Already so independent,” she snapped.

“No, just taller an’ stronger than you,” he retorted. They made it to her car, managed to fit all of his things inside, then headed for home. “Tell me everythin’, Ma. All tha gossip. I want ta feel like I never left.”

Annabelle looked at him carefully. “Somethin’ ya want ta tell me? Ya never cared less about this shite.”

“Just want ta know, Ma.” Connor gave her his most charming smile, the one he had honed to perfection in prep school. “Ya always did know everyone’s comings an’ goings.”

“Well…” She was off, talking a blue streak. Connor grinned, leaning back in the seat. It was well worth the trip. This was home. Someday he’d bring Murphy back with him, and show him all his old haunts and favorite places. Maybe they could eventually keep a place here, as well as in America. It had been something he had daydreamed about on the long flight…he would be a great attorney, champion of the poor, and Murphy a well-known psychiatrist. They’d have money to burn, and he could finally get Murphy to accept all the things he desperately wanted to give him but that Murphy’s pride forced him to refuse. “Didya hear a word I just fuckin’ said?” Ma snapped.

“Oh, sorry, Ma,” Connor apologized. “A bit tired, I guess. Last I heard, ya said that Uncle got a new waitress.”

“Aye…won’t keep out of her skirt, either, poor girl,” Ma said sympathetically. “Single mother, she is…not young, but pretty. Can’t be very young…I think her daughter’s only a bit younger than you. Alannah’s her name…sweet young thing.”

“That’s nice,” Connor said, knowing just where this was headed.

“Goes ta Mass…has a job while she goes ta tha local school…interested in meetin’ ya.”

“Ma, don’t start, all right?” Connor rolled his eyes. “I told ya…”

“No harm in meetin’ tha girl, is there? I’m still yer Ma, an’ I guess I know what’s what.”

“Fine.” Connor stared out the window, good mood momentarily lost.

Ma said nothing more on the subject, even after they reached their tiny home. Neighbors called out eager greetings, and Connor found himself slowly perking up again. Even as tired as he was, it felt good to be the center of so much attention. He had always been made fun of for his used clothing and hand-me-down life, even in a town as small and battered as theirs. Now he was hailed as a conquering hero, a native of the town who had actually gone out and seen the world. “I told a few people ta come over tomorrow,” Ma said as he got his bags. “So they could see ya.”

“Aw, Ma,” he groaned, but was secretly pleased.

They made it inside, Connor lugging his things down the hall to his tiny room. It seemed very small now, as did everything that was familiar. It was home, though, and that was all that mattered. “Are ya hungry?” Ma asked, walking to his doorway. “I couldn’t get off t’night, not if I wanted to be here for tomorrow night, but I could get ya something ta eat.”

“Nah, Ma, I’m just tired. I’ll probably sleep til tomorrow night,” Connor said. He impulsively walked over and kissed her cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason ta kiss me own Ma?” He smiled down at her, remembering when he had to look up to meet her gaze.

“No, I guess not.” She touched her cheek, then glared at him. “Unpack. I know most of that is washin’ ya expect me ta do.”

“Like I really think ya’d do me washin’,” Connor scoffed. “I’ve been managin’ just fine.”

“That’s right. Don’t expect me ta be runnin’ at yer every beck an’ call,” she snapped. He smiled as she walked away. That was the mother he remembered.

Connor unpacked and took a long hot shower. He went downstairs and made himself a sandwich, happy to see that everything was kept where he remembered it. His mother sat at the table, half-empty glass of beer in front of her. “I’m gonna hit tha hay, Ma. I’ll talk ta ya tomorrow. Let me know if there’s anythin’ I can do around the house.”

“You’ll get a list of chores, don’t ya worry,” she said, and he laughed. He wearily climbed the steps and fell into bed, Murphy’s smile on his mind as he fell asleep.

 

Connor yawned and stretched, instinctively reaching out for Murphy. He frowned as he realized that not only was he in his tiny bed, but that the bed was full of only him. He sighed, smiling as he remembered the very detailed dream he had been having about Murphy. “Connor! It’s late enough. Get tha hell outta bed an’ help me.”

Connor winced as his mother pounded on his bedroom door. “Not my idea ta invite tha whole fuckin’ neighborhood,” he grumbled to himself, but he pulled himself out of bed. He pulled on pants and went down to eat breakfast. Lunch, actually, as it was after one in the afternoon. 

“About damn time,” she griped.

“Ma, relax.” Connor went through the cupboards, finally coming up with some crackers and cheese. “Lemme eat an’ then I’ll do whatever ya want. It’s just tha neighbors.”

“An’ that’s enough. Want them ta see what me boy’s done with himself,” Ma said, shocking him by ruffling his hair affectionately. 

“Ma…I haven’t done much,” Connor muttered. 

“Done more than anyone in this fuckin’ town. Done more than I ever expected from one of yer deadbeat Da’s kids,” Ma said, then frowned. “Eat. I need ya ta take out tha trash an’ run down ta tha bar.”

“Ma, do ya ever wonder where he is?” Connor asked softly. His father was a very touchy subject with his mother.

“No. An’ ya shouldn’t either. We’re better off without him,” she snapped. “After ya come back from tha bar, clean out tha hall closet.”

“Ma,” Connor whined. “That’ll take hours.”

“Do it,” she ordered, and he felt like he was ten years old again. “Or I’ll take tha strap ta ya.”

Connor grinned, coming over to stand before her. He towered over her by a good five or six inches. “Will ya now?”

“Don’t think I can’t…or won’t,” she said, shoving him away. “Get dressed an’ start workin’.”

“Yes, Mother.” Connor kissed her forehead and ambled out of the kitchen. Annabelle sighed, watching him walk away. 

 

Connor ran her various errands, finally getting around to the hall closet around four o’clock. He rearranged boxes, rehung coats, and threw away things that obviously hadn’t seen the light of day in years. An old shoebox caught his eye, and he sat down on the floor with it, surrounded by boots and winter clothing. The box was full of pictures, mostly of them snipped and torn in half. He smiled at baby pictures of himself and groaned at the clothing he wore in school pictures.

“What tha hell? Connor, people will be here soon.” Ma stared at the mess on the floor.

“Fuck, Ma, how tha hell could ya send me outta tha house dressed like this?” Connor shook his head.

“Ya know how long ago that was? Everyone dressed like that,” she reminded him.

“An that car. Is that a yellow car?” He waved a picture in the air. His mother held him, wrapped in blankets, with half of a giant yellow car in the background. The other half of the picture was torn away. He assumed his father had been on the other side.

“Connor, ya were about a month old here. It was nineteen seventy-two. We drove ugly cars then, all right? Jesus, we have other things ta worry about here.” She threw the picture at him. 

“Can I have some of these?” Connor couldn’t wait to show them to Murphy.

“Whatever. Just get cleaned up, hear?”

 

“So, ya gonna be a rich lawyer over there in tha States, huh, Connor?” An uncle clapped him on the back, almost knocking him over. It was eight-thirty, and the party was already in full swing, meaning that half of his relatives were drunk.

“A lawyer, I hope, Uncle, but not necessarily rich.” Connor smiled and tried to avoid the beer slopping out of his uncle’s glass.

“I’ve seen tha movies an’ on tha telly…they’re all rich in America,” his uncle slurred.

“Well, we’ll see.” Connor excused himself, trying to make his way out of the room and safely up to the second floor. He had forgotten how rowdy and noisy his family could get, and add to that about three-quarters of the neighborhood…it was pure bedlam.

“Connor!” His mother yelled. “Get yer arse over here. Want ya ta meet someone.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Connor groaned, but he wove through the crowd. “Yeah, Ma?”

“Connor, this is Emma. She works at tha bar,” Ma said, motioning to the woman next to her.

Connor smiled and nodded. “Ya mentioned her, aye. Nice ta meet ya.” He held out his hand. The woman took it and smiled.

“Such manners. Better than tha losers around here,” she said. Connor ducked his head shyly, a practiced move.

“An’ this, Connor, is Alannah. Emma’s daughter.” Ma grabbed a teenage girl and shoved her towards Connor. 

Connor mentally rolled his eyes, but smiled at the girl, who looked mortified. “Nice ta meet ya,” he said.

“Why don’t ya take her somewhere ta talk?” Ma suggested.

“Fuck, Ma!” Connor snapped before he thought. “Sorry,” he apologized to Alannah, who shrugged. Both Annabelle and Emma were looking at him expectantly. “I was gonna go out on tha porch for some fresh air, if ya want ta join me,” he said finally. “Got a coat?”

“Aye,” Alannah said, heading for the closet. Connor grabbed his own coat, glaring at his mother, who was smiling in satisfaction. 

Alannah followed him outside to the empty porch. He leaned against the railing. “Sorry about that. Ma’s kinda pushy, especially when she’s had a few.”

“Mine, too,” Alannah said. She dug in her pocket. “Smoke?”

“No, thanks,” he said. She nodded and lit up. The smell reminded him so much of Murphy that Connor’s body ached. “So…Ma tells me yer goin’ ta school.”

“Aye.” Alannah exhaled. “Want ta teach school.”

“That’s good. Steady work,” he said.

She shrugged. “It’s all right, I guess. I like kids. Want a bunch of my own someday.” Connor frowned at the obvious hint but said nothing. “Is it nice? America, I mean.”

“Aye,” Connor said, smiling as he thought of what he loved best in America. “Ya can do anythin’ there.”

“Someday I’d like ta go.”

“Maybe ya can,” he said generously.

“Doubtful,” she said. “I’ll always be here. Stuck here teachin’, an’ getting’ married someday.”

“No law says ya hafta do all that,” he pointed out.

“It’s what’s expected of me,” she said with a sigh. “Connor, would ya like ta go out with me tomorrow night?” Alannah asked suddenly. Connor gulped.

“Listen, Alannah, I’d like ta, I mean, ya seem nice enough, but I’m sorta seein’ someone. In tha States,” he said truthfully. “I don’t mind takin’ ya out, as long as ya know it’s just as friends.”

“Oh.” Alannah looked out at the street. “Yer Ma didn’t mention anyone…”

“She doesn’t know,” he interrupted. “We haven’t talked about that yet.”

Alannah nodded. “She has me Ma’s number…call me while yer here, if ya want ta get together. Just friends,” she added quickly.

“I’d really like that,” he said with his sunny smile. “C’mon. It’s gettin’ cold out.” He held the door for her as they went back into the house.

 

Connor tried to get to bed early, but couldn’t get to sleep until after one in the morning. When he got up ten hours later, there were still a few relatives crashed on the furniture, and his mother was nowhere to be seen. He made some coffee and began to clean up the nightmare that was his house. He didn’t mind the work; it gave him something to do as he rehearsed what he was going to tell his mother.

“See, Ma, it’s like this. Ya hafta stop shovin’ girls at me, because I’m not fuckin’ interested, all right? I want men. One man in particular. His name is Murphy, an’ I love him. You’ll love him, too, if ya give him a chance.” Connor tied a full trash bag shut. “Nah…that’s not right.” He paused. “See, Ma, Alannah’s nice an’ all, but I got someone back in tha States. He’s great. Yeah, Ma, I said he.” Connor flopped into a kitchen chair. “Christ.” He rubbed at his forehead.

“Ya talkin’ ta yerself, boy?” One of the uncles shuffled into the kitchen.

“Aye, Uncle Matthew. Coffee?”

“No, I’ll be goin’ home.” The old man pulled on his coat. “Good luck ta ya, boy. Looks like America’s been good ta ya.”

“Thank ya, Uncle,” Connor said, giving the man a small smile. His uncle nodded and went out the door, letting it slam behind him. Connor winced and went back to his cleaning.

He had most of the cleaning done, at least in the kitchen and living room, by the time his mother pulled herself out of bed. The other relatives were long gone, and Connor had the radio playing quietly in the background. “For fuck’s sake, Connor, turn that racket off!” His mother snapped as soon as she came downstairs. Connor said nothing, simply turning off the radio. He was used to these day-after dramas. “My head’s fuckin’ poundin’.” She slowly sat at the kitchen table. He made her a cup of tea without being asked, and put two pieces of bread in to toast. “Fuckin’ relatives. Drive me ta drink,” she said. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t reply. When the toast popped, he put it on a plate and handed it to her, dry. He sat down across from her, watching her nibble at the toast. “Everyone’s damn impressed with ya,” she said finally. He shrugged. “Ya did me proud, Connor.”

“Thank ya, Ma,” he said, and meant it. Praise from his mother was rare. “Listen, Ma, there’s somethin’ I’ve been needin’ ta talk ta ya about.”

“Aye?” His mother said absently, sipping at her tea.

“It’s about Alannah,” he said, all prepared speeches flying out the window. “Ya shouldn’t just be pushin’ her at me, tellin’ her things before ya know what’s what.”

“Isn’t she good enough fer ya, now that yer an American?” Ma growled.

“Not at all, Ma. She’s a great girl. Nice an’ pretty.” Connor slowly pushed away from the table. “But not for me.”

“An’ what, exactly, IS fer you, Connor Flannery?”

“Not Alannah. Not a girl. Not ANY girl.” Connor stood, putting his hands on the back of his chair. “M’gay, Ma.”

“What do ya mean, gay?” Weary bloodshot eyes stared up at him.

“I mean gay. As in homosexual. As in I like boys, Ma,” Connor snapped. “There’s no good way ta tell ya, so there it is. I’m never gonna marry, never gonna settle down with a nice girl, because I don’t want ta. I want ta settle down with a nice boy. An’ I found one. His name is…”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me his name. I don’t want ta hear it. I’m NOT hearin’ it.” She stood up so fast her chair slammed to the ground. She put one hand on her head. “Connor, this isn’t tha fuckin’ time for this shite.”

“It’ll never BE a good time, Ma! I’ve been keepin’ this inside fer years.”

“Years? How long have ya known?”

“Since I was old enough ta know what tha birds an’ tha bees were, Ma,” Connor said. “Forever. An’ it’s never gonna change. I need ya ta know that.”

“Yer goin’ ta hell. Ya know that, right?”

“Yeah, Ma, that did cross me mind,” Connor said sarcastically.

Her hand whipped across his face. “Don’t talk ta me like that, Connor. I can’t fuckin’ believe this.” Her eyes were wide. “Sinnin’ against God, against everythin’ ya know is holy an’ right.”

“It’s who I am, Ma. Can’t ya just accept that?” Connor begged.

“No, I can’t. I can’t even look at ya.” She turned around and left the kitchen. 

Connor sank back into his chair. “Well, that went well,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.


	27. Chapter 27

HOME  
Twenty-Seven

 

The excitement of the trip made it easier to drive longer the first leg, and Murphy made it to Buffalo in a little over seven hours. He stopped at a diner, ate a huge cheeseburger and fries, and got a handful of change for the pay phone. “Sally’s Pub.”

“I need ta leave a message for Malachy MacManus?”

“Hold on, son. He’s here.” The woman put down the phone, but Murphy heard her yell for his father. 

“Murphy?”

“Aye, Da. How are ya?”

“Good. What do ya need?”

“I’m on me way out ta see ya. We’re done with school ‘til after tha New Year. I’m outside Buffalo now…figure I got about another nine or ten hours of drivin’, maybe. I’m gonna go straight through, call ya when I get there.” Murphy paused. “Or, should I just come ta that pub yer at?”

“That’d be best. M’usually here if m’not workin’.” 

“Hold on, Da.” Murphy leaned out of the phone booth. “Could I have a pen an’ some paper?” He asked the cashier. She handed him a pen and a few napkins. He nodded his thanks. “Okay, Da. Gimme directions.” His father talked fast, but Murphy thought he caught everything. “M’lookin’ forward ta seein’ ya, Da.”

“I could definitely use yer help for a few weeks,” Da agreed. Murphy winced but said nothing. The last thing he wanted was to fall back into that life.

“I’m runnin’ out of quarters, Da. I’ll call again a bit closer ta Chicago. Love ya.”

“Be safe, Murph.”

 

Murphy did a lot of thinking between Buffalo and Cleveland, and then from Cleveland to Toledo. He kept his mind on his driving, but part of it was far away, across the sea in Ireland. He desperately wanted to talk to Connor, but knew it was almost impossible. Connor would be busy with his family and old friends, plus the cost of calling internationally would be outrageous.

Murphy lit up a cigarette and sighed, wondering if Connor would even remember him. Perhaps he’d find someone else over there, a nice Irish lass that would make him realize what he really wanted. Murphy shook his head. Connor had told him that he had always known he was gay, and now it was just time to inform his mother of this.

Murphy was fortunate enough not to have to worry about that. Back when he himself had realized what he wanted, he had pretty much told his father right out about the whole situation. He hadn’t gone into detail, of course, but he had been honest about what he wanted, and that it was NOT a girl. He and his father had always had an open relationship about things. If issues came up, they talked about them. Often they didn’t like what the other had to say, but it was what it was. They only had each other, and in their type of life, sometimes honesty meant as much as life or death.

Malachy had stared at him for a long moment. “Know that’s a sin, dontcha?”

“Aye,” Murphy had replied. His father had taken him to Mass as a small child, and he knew the doctrines of the church, though neither of them were avid churchgoers. Committing murder would do that to your faith.

“I don’t want ta see it. Don’t want to hear about it,” Da had said, and that was the end of the discussion.

Murphy could not for the life of him find one word to describe the relationship he had with his father. He guessed he loved him; that’s what one did with one’s parent. Da was the only family he knew, and he could have easily dropped Murphy with someone else, or even at an orphanage or something, but instead, he found someone to help raise him until Murphy was old enough to bum around at his father’s side. Da refused to talk about coming from Ireland, though Murphy knew that he was born there. Da didn’t mention much about Murphy’s mother, either. Murphy just always assumed that she was dead. It made the most sense, and Da definitely wasn’t one for a dramatic story.

Murphy just wished that Da could find a reason to settle down and live a halfway “normal” life. He wasn’t even sure how old his father was, but he knew he wasn’t getting any younger. He tried to imagine Da going to a 9 to 5 job, coming home, just sitting around and laughing with friends. The image was pretty fuzzy.

 

Murphy got into the city a little before two in the morning. Thankfully his father’s directions were halfway decent, and he found the little pub with no problem. He wearily pulled himself from the car, stretched tall, and made sure to lock everything before entering the bar. 

The pub was small and smoky, just the type of place he remembered from his childhood. Sometimes he felt he had spent most of his time at a booth in the corner of an Irish pub, hearing tall tales and smelling stale ale on the tabletops. He leaned at the end of the bar, waiting for the woman pulling beer to notice him. She walked over.

“Sorry, boy. We don’t serve underage here. Plus we’re lookin’ ta close soon.”

“Are you Sally?”

“Aye,” she said suspiciously.

“I’m Murphy MacManus. M’here for me Da, Malachy?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Aye. Nice…nice ta meet ya, Murphy. Have a seat.” She motioned to the stool. She pulled him a draft beer without another word, then went down to the other end of the bar to talk to someone. Murphy shrugged and sipped at the dark liquid.

“Murphy.” A man walked over to him, holding his hand out. “Name’s O’Leary. Friend o’ yer Da’s.”

“Good ta know ya.” Murphy shook the man’s hand. “I know it’s late…Da said ta meet him here, though.”

“Aye, he’s here most times,” the man said. “Come sit a bit.” He motioned to a back booth. Murphy picked up his beer and followed him, feeling every pair of eyes in the place suddenly glued to his back. Murph slid onto the bench across from O’Leary. “Look, Murph, there’s no good way ta say this. Yer Da’s gone.”

“Gone?” Murphy blinked. “Ya sure? I know he moves from place ta place a lot, but he always lets me know where he’s off ta next.”

“No, Murphy. Not like that. He’s…he’s dead. This evenin’…just a few hours ago.”

Murphy stared at him, beer forgotten. “Yer talking crazy.”

“No, I’m not. I was there, Murph. He thought he’d do a quick job t’night, get some extra money fer yer visit…went horribly wrong.” O’Leary stared at his hands. “Got shot in tha chest. Never suffered.”

Murphy closed his eyes, surprised at the tears threatening to fall. He wouldn’t cry. Da would never forgive him if he cried. Murphy opened them again, trying to focus. “Is he…”

“We have him somewhere,” the man said evasively. “Thought ya’d want ta see him. We’ll take care o’ everythin’. I can take ya ta where he stays, so ya have a place to be while yer here.”

“Thanks,” Murphy said vaguely, not able to keep a rational thought in his head for more than a few seconds. “Could we go now? See him, I mean?”

“Sure, lad.” O’Leary got up and led Murphy through the pub. Murphy heard murmured condolences from the people around him but paid them no mind. 

 

Murphy’s sneakers crunched over the frozen pavement of the parking lot, and he was grateful for Connor’s Christmas gift. The air in Chicago was twice as cold as Boston, and he buried his face down in the collar as he and O’Leary made their way into the dingy warehouse. Connor. Murphy wouldn’t think about Connor now, COULDN’T think about him. O’Leary flipped on a light and paused. “We haven’t cleaned him up or anythin’, Murph. Just ta warn ya.”

“Aye,” Murphy whispered. O’Leary stepped aside and Murphy saw his father, laying on the ground beside some boxes. Another man stood by him, but at a nod from O’Leary, the man walked away. Murphy fell to his knees by his father, saying a silent prayer that came almost without thought. “Da,” he whispered, reaching out to touch the grey curls. He refused to look below his father’s chin, couldn’t bare the thought of the blood. He had seen enough blood in his day to fill a thousand pints, but this was different. This was his father’s blood. “Fuck, Da…knew ya were gettin’ old, but ya were better than this.” Murphy put his face in the palm of his hand.

He felt O’Leary’s hand on his shoulder. “Hate ta do this ta ya, lad, but we best be goin’. Don’t know when the shite might fall here…best ta have him, an’ ourselves, long gone.”

“Aye.” Murphy bent forward and kissed his father’s forehead. “God bless ya, Da.” He got up and blindly stumbled after O’Leary. 

 

O’Leary showed him to a tiny hole in the wall apartment in a rotten neighborhood. But it was warm, the water was clear, and the door had three good deadbolts on it. “Yer Da’s paid up as far as I know,” O’Leary explained. “He made sure ta tell me everythin’, just in case somethin’ like this ever happened. I was ta keep ya informed, take care o’ ya.”

“I can take care of m’self,” Murphy said almost automatically. 

O’Leary grinned. “He said ya’d probably say that, too. He taught ya well.” O’Leary looked around with a sigh. “Stay as long as ya like, take whatever ya want with ya when ya decide what yer doin’. I can get rid o’ tha rest.”

“Thanks. M’glad he had…well…a friend,” Murphy said, finally meeting O’Leary’s gaze.

O’Leary didn’t smile. “Yer Da had a lot o’ friends. I can assure ya, this won’t be goin’ unpunished, Murphy. Got it?”

“Aye.” 

“I’ll stop by t’morrow. Ya need yer rest.” And then the man was gone, leaving Murphy to his thoughts and memories.


	28. Chapter 28

HOME  
Twenty-Eight

 

Much to his surprise, Murphy DID sleep. He took a shower, washing the grime of the road from his weary body. Then he fell onto the bed, trying not to imagine his father sleeping there every night. It took about five minutes for him to fall asleep, and then he slept for the next fifteen hours.

He woke up around suppertime, blinking owlishly at the strange surroundings. The night before came slamming into his brain, and he was amazed yet again at how quickly his life could turn upside down. His stomach growled ferociously, and he forced himself to sit up and get dressed. There were a few snacks and things in the cupboards, though Murphy assumed Da spent a lot of time down at that bar. Murphy munched on some crackers as he looked around the sparsely furnished apartment. A closet door loomed in the corner, and he winced as he thought of going through Da’s things. But he’d have to do it, sooner or later.

Murphy pulled on the heavy winter coat and headed out into the biting Chicago night. The air was frigid, which seemed to reflect his mood at the moment. He felt nothing, and was barely existing on any sort of rational thought. A blinking diner sign caught his eye, and he went in, hoping some hot food and caffeine would jump his battery. 

“What can I get ya, honey?” The overly made-up waitress bounced over, snapping her gum.

“Uh, can I get breakfast?” Murphy asked, and the woman nodded. “How about three eggs, scrambled hard with peppers an’ onions…um…potatoes…white toast, bacon, an’ lots of coffee?”

“You got it, sweetie.” She smiled at him and sashayed away.

He absently toyed with his spoon as he waited, slowly waking up from the fog that had taken over his brain. The waitress returned with his coffee, and he sat up a bit. “Thank ya.”

“That’s some accent you got there,” she said. “Where ya from?”

“Me Da’s…” Murphy cleared his throat and corrected himself. “Me Da was from Ireland.”

“I could listen to you talk all day,” she said with a smile, and Murphy realized she was flirting with him. She had to be at least twice his age, but obviously she didn’t care.

“Thank ya,” he said again, staring down at his cup as he stirred in some sugar. She took the hint and went away from the table.

Murphy slowly woke up and began to take mental inventory. He had a bit of money saved, though not much. His tuition and board were taken care of through the spring semester. After that, he’d have to see. He wasn’t even sure if he WANTED to continue with school. Not now. Things were too different to continue living the life of a devil-may-care coed, though he never really had been like all the other students. He knew he didn’t want to stay in Chicago. There was nothing for him here. Home had always been where Da was, and since it wasn’t like he’d be in a cemetery with a fancy headstone, there was nothing in Chicago for Murphy to think twice about. He liked Boston. Liked it a lot. It was more like home than anything he had ever felt, not that he really knew what “home” was. Home was never anywhere permanent for more than a few months at the most. Boston also had the added plus of Connor. 

Connor. He missed Connor so much it hurt. Of course, he was hurting all over right now, but the fact that Connor was a thousand miles away didn’t help. He knew Connor would offer to give him money, give him anything he could, but Murphy still couldn’t bear to accept charity from him. At least Connor loved him, though, that much Murphy was sure of.

“Here you are, Sugar,” the waitress said, plunking down plates. “Anything else?”

“No, thank ya,” Murphy said. The scent of the food hit his nose and suddenly he was RAVENOUS. He dug in eagerly, stopping only when a strange man suddenly slid into the booth across from him. Murphy stared at the man, who didn’t seem to be much older than himself. He finished the bite in his mouth and put down his fork, his other hand tightening around his knife.

“You’re MacManus’ boy,” the man said.

“Aye. What’s it ta ya?”

The man smiled. “Definitely Malachy’s son. I’m Seamus.” He held out a hand and Murphy slowly took it. This Seamus didn’t have an Irish accent, but the look and feel of him was all too familiar to Murphy. “Let’s just say I was your Da’s…financial planner.”

“I see,” Murphy said, though he didn’t see. At all.

“Look, Murphy, first of all, let me say how sorry I am. Your Da was a good man. Talented at what he did, a great man to have at your back. Things went wrong, and I’m sorry.” Murphy nodded and started eating again. “O’Leary’s had your place watched, just in case of trouble. They came…”

“Someone’s followin’ me?” Murphy’s voice was low, but the anger was obvious.

“When your Da went down, things went sour way too quick. I don’t want to go into a lot of detail, but let’s just say that some people thought it might be personal, and didn’t want anything to happen to you. We take care of our own, Murphy. You know that.”

“Aye,” Murphy admitted. He did know that. Sometimes the Irish underworld community was so tight it was hard to breathe.

“Anyway, once you left, I got the call to come and see you here.” Seamus reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a large manila envelope. He slid it across the table to Murphy. “Just put this in your pocket, okay? Look at it later. It’s everything your Da had on his account. It’s in large bills, because it took up less room. If you want it changed, I can do it for you. Before you leave for wherever you’re going after this.”

“Thank ya,” Murphy said, suddenly losing his appetite. He shoved his plate away.

“I’m sorry,” Seamus said again. “You’re so young. Christ.” He nodded at Murphy and left the diner.

 

Connor kicked at the stones as he walked, fists jammed in his pockets. He desperately wished he could talk to Murphy. Just hearing Murphy’s voice would make it all bearable. He had gone from the conquering hero to the invisible man, all within the four walls of his own home. Ma only spoke to him when he asked her a direct question, and he was wishing the days would go by faster so he could get out of there and go back to Boston. He COULD go back; the fee he’d have to pay to change his ticket wouldn’t be that big a deal, but the dorms weren’t open until the weekend before classes started up again. He’d have nothing to do except miss Murphy, and he could do that in Ireland for free.

He squared his shoulders as he took the front steps in one jump. This was going to stop. She had to talk to him. “Ma?” He yelled out of habit. He knew she was home; it was three in the afternoon. “Ma?” Connor heard the radio in the kitchen and headed there. “Ma, we need to talk.”

She stubbed out her cigarette, not even looking up. “I’m thinkin’ ya’ve done enough talkin’ fer now, Connor.”

“I don’t really care. M’gonna talk, an’ yer gonna listen.” He took another chair, swung it around backwards, and sat down. “M’still yer son, Ma. M’still Connor. Nothin’ has changed.”

“Only yer whole future, now an’ in tha afterlife!” Ma’s eyes met his for the first time in days. “Dontcha care about that?”

“Of course I do, Ma. But there’s nothin’ ta be done about it! Either way, I’d be goin’ ta hell. I’d be livin’ a lie, an’ didn’t ya always tell me that God saw everythin’, even in tha darkest corners of me heart?”

“That’s not right, boy, throwin’ me words back at me at a time like this.” But at least she was listening to him, which was promising.

“Ya think this has been easy for me? It hasn’t. First of all, I never liked lyin’ ta ya. Not about somethin’ like this. Not when ya had yer heart set on me comin’ back an’ findin’ someone ta marry. But it’s my life, Ma. An’ it’s not gonna end up that way. M’sorry.” He clenched the back of the chair in his hands. “It’s not easy. I gotta do a lot of lyin’ ta a lot of people. I’m gettin’ damn good at it, actually.” He thought of all the people he’d fooled with so many lies, both in prep school and at college. “An’ I’m not sayin’ ya have ta go tellin’ tha family about it. I know yer embarrassed an’ disappointed. Just…don’t say anythin’. Say m’too busy ta have a girl, or whatever story ya want ta tell them. Just quit settin’ me up, okay? That’s all m’askin’ ya.”

“I don’t know what ta say, Connor.”

“We don’t need ta have a heart ta heart every day, Ma. Just talk ta me again. I’m here for such a short time…I hate havin’ ya so mad at me. Havin’ ya hate me.”

Ma stared at him for a long moment, seeing her little boy staring at her hopefully with his big blue eyes. “I don’t hate ya, Connor. I’m just…”

“I know.” Connor slowly smiled.

“Fuckin’ charmer, ya are,” she said, snorting as she stood. She tousled his hair as she walked by, the closest she usually came to any sort of signs of affection. “Ya get that from yer Da.”


	29. Chapter 29

HOME  
Twenty-Nine

 

Murphy peered through the peephole before undoing the locks and opening the door. “O’Leary, hey.”

“How ya doin’, Murphy?” The other man stepped into the apartment. “Looks like ya’ve been busy.”

“Well, ya said ta pack up what I wanted.” Murphy gave a light kick to one of the four boxes on the floor. “Not much worth anythin’, really…some clothes and some other stuff. Most of it I’m just takin’ along ta go through back in Boston. I appreciate ya offerin’ ta empty out tha apartment.”

“No problem.” O’Leary looked him over. “Murphy, we could sure use ya if ya wanted ta stay. I know ya’ve been trained by yer Da, an’ he was one o’ tha best.”

“I know. An’ part of me wants ta stay, wants ta avenge him.” Murphy clenched his hands into fists. “Been fightin’ with m’self about it most of tha time I’ve been here. But, no offense, I’m not wantin’ that sort of life, O’Leary. I want…somethin’ different. Always have. An’ I sorta have someone waitin’ for me back in Boston.”

“Understood.” O’Leary put a hand on Murphy’s shoulder. “If you ever need anythin’…you call us. Seamus put a number in with tha money. You call it, an’ leave a message. We’ll come wherever ya are. We got connections in a lot of places.”

“Aye,” Murphy said, nodding. 

“Speakin’ o’ tha money. Ya got enough?”

“Yeah. Da was a better saver than I gave him credit for.” Murphy gave a small smile. “I got enough ta get a room until tha dorms open up in a few weeks, an’ then I got enough ta get me settled somewhere if I decide not ta go back ta school.”

“Sounds like ya got a lot ta figure out,” O’Leary said sympathetically.

“Ya got no idea.” Murphy ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll be outta here early t’morrow…” He held out his hand. “Thank ya fer everythin’, O’Leary. Ya made this a lot easier.”

“Sorry ya had ta go through it at all, boy.” O’Leary took Murphy’s hand and clasped it hard. “God be with ya.”

 

True to his word, Murphy was out on the road early the next morning. He gave the apartment one last look, but could feel no part of his father there. He sighed deeply, then shut the door, making sure to lock it behind him. He dropped the keys into a prepared envelope and put it in the mailbox on the corner. He then got behind the wheel of the car and started the long drive back to Boston. He could have stayed a while longer in Chicago; everyone said it was pretty at Christmas. He didn’t care. Christmas wasn’t a big deal when you were alone, and he’d rather be holed up in Boston somewhere than alone in Chicago.

 

“Well.” Ma stared at Connor in surprise when he came clomping down the stairs. “Goin’ ta meet tha Queen, are ya?”

Connor snorted, stopping by the hallway mirror to check his hair. “No. Told ya. One of Alannah’s friends is throwin’ a New Year’s Eve party, an’ I said I’d take her.”

“Ya look good,” Ma said, and Connor turned to look at her.

“Thanks.” He wore a dark blue shirt and a pair of black jeans. He had nicer things, but this would do for a small town party.

“I guess I never noticed how grown up ya are,” Ma said. “A lot of things about ya have changed, an’ I missed them.”

“Maybe ya just never noticed them at all,” he teased, stopping by the table to kiss her cheek.

“I could still tan yer hide,” she warned, smacking him across the backside.

“If ya could catch me. I’ll be late, if I come home at all. Ya be careful, Ma. Stay with a friend if ya end up at tha pub,” he ordered.

“Don’t be tellin’ yer Ma what ta do,” she snapped back. Connor smiled, feeling like things were starting to truly mend between them.

“Love ya, Ma.” He grabbed his jacket and went out the door.

 

“Ya look nice,” he said to Alannah when she answered the door.

“Thanks. Thanks, too, for takin’ me ta tha party. Always nice ta not have ta go alone.” She closed the door to the house and locked it. “Ma’s workin’. Mind walkin’? It’s just up a few streets.”

“Sure. It’s not too cold.” Connor let her lead the way up the sidewalk.

“So…when are you goin’ back?”

“Friday mornin’. Christ, I don’t want ta even think about packin’,” he groaned. “I’m even leavin’ stuff here, an’ it seems like my bags are as full as when I came.”

“I’m glad ya came back, Connor. It was nice gettin’ ta know ya,” Alannah said suddenly, and he smiled at her. They had gotten to be friends over his time back home, even spending time together on Christmas Day. They had made it perfectly clear to both their mothers that it was ONLY friendship, though they had let everyone else believe what they wanted.

“I want ya ta write me in the States, okay?” Connor reminded her. “Ya got me address. Maybe sometime ya could get away, come visit. I’m not sure how long, if at all, I’ll be home over tha summer. Ya could come then.”

“I’ll see,” she said vaguely, though he knew she welcomed the invitation. “Here we are.” She stopped him in front of a house overflowing with people and loud music. “Connor…before we go in. Kiss me at midnight?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m yer date, right?”

She smiled at him. “Aye.”

But when midnight came, and he gave her the dutiful kiss on the lips, it wasn’t her lips that he was imagining. And he knew that he was only counting the days until he could see Murphy again.


	30. Chapter 30

HOME  
Thirty

 

Murphy came into Boston early Friday morning. He got something to eat before heading for the dorms, which, blessedly, were open. He dropped most of his things in his room, and left a note for Steve, apologizing for not telling him the truth, and hoping that they could talk about it later.

He then went to Connor’s room, letting himself in quietly. He fell onto the bed, which was stripped bare, but he could still imagine Connor’s smell on the mattress. He lay there for a long moment, just enjoying the thought of Connor. He then forced himself to get up, taped a note to the door, and left the room again.

 

Connor didn’t even wait for the elevator. He took the steps of the dorm two at a time, a second wind washing over him. He lugged his bags up behind him, not caring that he almost took out his own shinbone three times. Murphy was here. He would be seeing Murphy. For Murphy, he’d cripple himself.

He skidded to a stop when he saw his name on an envelope, in familiar handwriting. He tore the envelope open.

Connor…I’m sorry I’m not here to meet you. I’m at that little inn by the diner where we had Thanksgiving dinner, remember? I can’t stay here this weekend. Please come to me…I need you. Love always, Murphy.

Connor let himself into his room, tossing his things everywhere. He quickly dumped out his duffle, shoving in the few necessities for the weekend. He tossed in some other odds and ends and practically ran out the door.

 

He found the tiny inn easily; it was a place where many parents stayed while picking up and depositing students. He made himself calmly and sedately approach the counter. “Hello,” he said with a smile. “I’m here to meet someone. Murphy MacManus?”

“Yes, dear.” The elderly woman behind the counter handed over a key. “He left word that you should just come on up when you got here. Second floor.”

“Thank ya, ma’am.” He nodded at her, took the key, and went to the stairs. Once again, he took them two at a time.

He unlocked the door at the same time he knocked on it, not wanting to startle Murphy. Connor’s heart was hammering a mile a minute as he let himself into the dimly lit room. The curtains were drawn, and even though it was afternoon, barely any sunlight filtered in. He could just make out Murphy’s form, sitting on the bed, holding something in his hand.

“Murphy?” He called softly.

“Connor.” Murphy was off the bed like a shot, barreling into Connor’s arms. Connor barely had time to steady himself to keep them from falling over. “Fuck, Connor. Connor.” His hands were fisting in Connor’s coat, head buried in Connor’s neck.

“I missed you, too,” Connor said with a chuckle, holding on tight. “God, I missed you.”

“God, Conn…” 

Connor was shocked to feel Murphy sobbing in his arms. He pulled away, unclenching Murphy’s hands long enough to shrug himself out of his coat. Murphy looked awful, with bags under his eyes and shadows in their blue depths. “Jesus Christ, Murphy. You look like ya’ve lost twenty pounds. What happened?” Connor cupped Murphy’s face in his hand, his thumb wiping away some tears.

“Da…Da’s dead, Connor. Da’s dead an’ I’m all alone.” Murphy didn’t try to stop the tears that flowed down his face. He had been holding them back for days, and now they had to come out.

“What?” Connor stared at him.

“He…got shot. Somethin’ went wrong, an’ he’s dead. An’ I got no one. No family, Connor. I’m nothin’ now.”

Connor toed off his shoes, noticing that Murphy wore a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt. He worked Murphy’s shirt off, and took off his own shirt, leaving them both just in pants. He climbed onto the bed, pulling Murphy down with him. He wrapped himself around Murphy, tucking Murphy’s head against his chest. “Shhh…” Connor said soothingly, rubbing his hands over any part of Murphy he could reach. “M’here now. Yer not alone.”

“Connor…” Murphy sighed, fisting his hands in Connor’s hair and pulling him down for a brutal kiss. “Need you.”

“M’right here. But ya need ta rest. I bet ya haven’t slept in days.”

“Weeks,” Murphy whispered, shivering a bit.

Connor could not imagine ever seeing Murphy so vulnerable, so open. But here he was, shuddering in Connor’s arms. “Shh,” Connor said again. “Connor’s here, Murph. I love ya. I’m here, an’ m’not goin’ nowhere. Yer not nothin’, an’ yer not alone. Just rest. I’ll be here as long as ya need me ta be.”

 

Murphy woke up feeling strange. He wasn’t sure why, then it dawned on him. He felt rested. For the first time in weeks, he felt rested and almost comfortable. Then he remembered the reason why. That reason was currently wrapped around him like a cocoon, snoring lightly into his hair. Connor. His face was pressed tightly against Connor’s smooth chest, and their arms and legs were wrapped tightly around one another, as if they couldn’t bear to let go, even in sleep. Murphy tried to turn and stretch, earning a quiet moan from Connor and a tightening of his arms. For the first time in ages, Murphy smiled.

“Conn…lemme go. Gotta pee.” Connor murmured something against Murphy’s hair but did not release him. Murphy finally poked and prodded until Connor slowly released him. He got up and went to the bathroom. It was almost one in the morning. They had slept the day away, and the night as well.

Murphy undressed completely, climbing back onto the bed. He worked Connor out of his own jeans and socks, and then wriggled and wormed his way around until they were both under the covers. “What time is it?”

“Almost one.” Murphy burrowed close, sighing as Connor held him tight. This was where he belonged. This was all the family he needed.

Connor smiled against Murphy, welcoming the feeling of their naked bodies twisting together. He had missed this so much. “How are you?” He whispered hoarsely.

“Better now,” Murphy said. “M’sorry I had a fuckin’ breakdown.”

“Christ, Murph, shut yer fuckin’ mouth!” Connor grabbed a fistful of Murphy’s hair and yanked it. “Ya just had one helluva loss…don’t start apologizin’.”

“Don’t like losin’ it like that.”

“It’s what makes us human, Murph. Doesn’t make me think any less o’ ya.” Connor kissed Murphy’s head. “Love ya more.”

“Love ya, too.” 

Connor lay silently for a moment. “Sorry about yer Da, Murphy.”

Murphy swallowed hard. “It’s not…it’s not even that I lost HIM, ya know? I mean, we weren’t exactly all that close, though I grew up at his hip all those years. It’s just that he’s all I HAVE. All I KNOW. And now…that’s gone. I have nothin’, nothin’ ta tell me who I am, who I belong ta.”

“Sure ya do.” Connor smiled, giggling a bit at the tenderness that filled his heart. “Ya belong ta me, ya stupid fuck.”

“Oh, such sweet words,” Murphy cooed back, but smiled. “I was afraid I didn’t…afraid ya found someone else.”

“Well, I did go out a few times with this girl, Alannah. She was sorta pretty.”

“WHAT?” Murphy sat up and stared at him.

“I wasn’t finished,” Connor said. 

“Finish,” Murphy growled.

“I was gonna say, she was sorta pretty, if ya like girls. Ma kept tryin’ ta hook us up, an’ finally I came out an’ told her.”

“Ya told yer Ma?” Murphy reached over and turned on the lamp, wanting to see Connor’s face.

“Christ, Murph, warn a guy before ya blind him,” Connor snapped. “Yeah, I told her. It didn’t go real well at first…I was sendin’ m’self ta eternal torment, ya know. Then I pointed out that by lyin’ ta m’self, an’ God, I was sendin’ m’self there anyway…she sorta saw it all a little different after that, though she’s not happy about it.”

“An’ this Alannah? What’d ya tell her?”

“That I was seein’ tha sexist bloke in tha world, an’ that every part o’ me was his,” Connor said with a straight face. Murphy’s mouth fell open. “Nah, I couldn’t say all THAT. Just that I had someone back in tha States, an’ that she an’ I could only be friends. An’ that’s all we were, Murph. FRIENDS,” Connor promised.

“Good.” Murphy straddled Connor’s waist, pinning his hands down. “I didn’t want ta have ta go ta Ireland and kick some bird’s arse for makin’ tha moves on ya.”

“Ya wouldn’t hit a girl,” Connor scoffed.

“If she was givin’ ya more than a look or two, I sure as shite would,” Murphy retorted. Connor laughed, arching up against Murphy’s hold.

“Macho Murph, pickin’ on a girl.”

“You’re my girl, remember?” Murphy teased.

Connor growled, flipping hard and succeeding and getting Murphy onto his back. “Whose tha girl now, huh?”

Murphy arched up against him, smile slowly fading from his face. “I fuckin’ missed ya so much, Connor. More than I ever thought I would.”

“Aye.” Connor kissed him, slowly releasing his hands. 

“Want ya inside o’me, Conn. Need ya inside,” Murphy all but begged.

“Don’t need ta ask me twice, Murphy. Been dreamin’ about it.” Connor’s kisses got deeper, more intense. “Thinkin’ about it every wakin’ an’ sleepin’ moment while I was gone.”

“Got supplies in me bag,” Murphy said, hissing as Connor bit down on his shoulder.

“I do, too,” Connor said, and they both smiled at that. Connor reached into his own bag, because he knew where he had dropped it.

“Don’t need a lot of preparation, Connor, just do it,” Murphy begged.

“M’not gonna hurt ya,” Connor said, slicking up his fingers and letting them go to that familiar, hot place.

“Don’t mind tha hurt…need it.” The last two words were almost whispered.

Connor heard, and the words registered, but he still could not continue without giving Murphy at least a small amount of preparation. He slid the condom on himself, slicking it liberally with lube. Murphy’s strong legs wrapped around him as he slowly moved inside, but he still heard Murphy hiss with pain. “Murphy…”

“More,” Murphy begged. He grabbed Connor by the hair, almost banging their foreheads together. “More.”

“Fuck, yes,” Connor said, finally accepting the permission Murphy was so willingly giving. He thrust inside, Murphy crying out loudly. Murphy’s heels dug into his backside, urging him on. 

“Connor…love ya…need ya…” 

“Feel so good…missed ya so much…” Connor breathed in Murphy’s ear. Murphy was so tight it was almost painful, and his rough fingernails raked down Connor’s back in a way he just knew would leave marks. But he didn’t care. If Murphy needed this, needed to use and be used, Connor was willing to do whatever it took.

Murphy couldn’t get enough of Connor. He felt like Connor couldn’t go deep enough, couldn’t move fast enough or hard enough. He wrapped himself around Connor, selfishly pushing him on. “Tell me…tell me how good it is…” Murphy begged, sucking on Connor’s neck.

“God,” Connor gasped, arching a bit. “So fucking good…yer so tight for me…feel like I could do this for days…but I need ta come…”

Suddenly Connor’s arching back sent him right where Murphy needed him to be. “Connor…there…fuck yeah…” Murphy gasped. 

Connor felt the familiar trembling of Murphy’s body around him, and reached down to blindly stroke at Murphy’s hard cock. “Come for me, Murphy…want ta feel ya come first.”

Murphy moaned Connor’s name as he came, his entire body trembling from the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced. Connor felt Murphy tighten around him, felt Murphy spurt onto his hand. It took nothing more of the sound of his own name to send him over as well, collapsing onto Murphy, not even able to hold himself up. Murphy wrapped his arms around Connor, holding him tight. “Thank ya,” he whispered. “Thank ya so much, Connor. Love ya so much.”

“Love ya, too,” Connor murmured, kissing Murphy’s cheek, his chin, his lips. They lay still for a moment, then Connor slowly rolled away, getting up to dispose of the condom. “I need a shower.” His stomach grumbled and he grinned. “An’ breakfast. Or dinner. Or whatever meal it is at this time o’ day.”

“I could eat,” Murphy admitted, and suddenly he was ravenous. The void he had felt since arriving in Chicago was filled slightly, just by being in Connor’s presence.

 

They headed across the street to the all-night diner, joking and laughing as if they had never been apart. They couldn’t be as open here as they had been in Boston, but it was just wonderful to be in each other’s company. They both ordered so much food that the waitress stared at them, yet they both managed to clean their plates and share a piece of pie as well.

They tumbled back out onto the street two hours later, incredibly full, and now, wide-awake. “We should get inside. We’re fuckin’ noisy,” Murphy said.

“Aye…probably get arrested fer drunk an’ disorderly, an’ we haven’t even touched a drop,” Connor said, tripping over his own feet and giggling. “I just…feel so good, seein’ ya.”

“Yeah. Haven’t had much of a reason ta smile of late.” Murphy grabbed Connor by the arm to keep him from falling. “I need ta decide what I’m doin’ now.”

“What do ya mean?” Connor asked as they entered the inn and went up the stairs.

“Well, this year’s paid through. An’ me Da left me some money, so I could at least get a place over tha summer, til I find some work.” Murphy unlocked the door and they went in.

“Work?” Connor stared at him. “Ya mean, ya’d quit school?”

“I’m not exactly in that place right now, Connor. Maybe someday I’d go back, but…”

“If it’s tha money…”

Murphy threw his coat down, glaring at Connor. “It’s not tha fuckin’ money, Connor, an’ I’m not takin’ any from you, anyway.” He sat down on the bed. “It’s just that right now I don’t think I can sit through three years of school. I need ta be out a bit. On my own.”

“An’ where do I fit in ta yer new plan?” Connor asked quietly.

Murphy smiled up at him. “Exactly where ya are now, ya fool. At school. Learnin’ ta be tha best lawyer ever. I may need ya someday. M’not leavin’ town, Conn. M’stayin’ in Boston.”

“We could get a place together,” Connor said thoughtfully.

“Aye, that’d be fantastic,” Murphy agreed. 

Connor bent down to take off his shoes and caught sight of something sticking out from under the bedspread. “What’s this?”

“Oh, yeah.” Murphy took the beads from Connor’s hand. He smoothed his fingers over the shining wood. “Found these in a box me Da had. Guess they were his.”

“Can I?” Connor asked, holding out his hand. Murphy held them out, and Connor inspected the rosary a bit closer. “I swear, I’ve seen one like this before. I remember tha silver circle on tha cross.” He shrugged, handing it back. “Maybe back home or somethin’.”

“I never saw Da wear it, or even hold it. Like I said, it was in a box of stuff. Pictures an’ things. I hardly got a chance ta go through it. I couldn’t…really.” Murphy stared at his fingers. “Brought it with me here, though.”

“Want me ta help ya? Maybe with someone lookin’ over yer shoulder…”

“I don’t know what I’ll find. Don’t want ta shock ya or anythin’…”

“I’d like ta see it. See what ya were like before I knew ya,” Connor teased.

“Okay.” Murphy got up and went to his bag, pulling out a box and bringing it to the bed.

“Oh, that reminds me. I brought some pictures back from Ireland. Ma said I could have them…thought ya’d get a kick outta seein’ me when I was little,” Connor said with a grin.

“THAT will definitely be a laugh or two,” Murphy said, chuckling. Connor sighed inwardly, relieved that he could bring a smile to Murphy’s sad face. He grabbed the envelope from his own bag and sat down next to Murphy.

Connor politely sat back, letting Murphy pull the things from the box and look at them before showing them to Connor. “Looks like mostly paperwork…passports…birth certificates…” Murphy flipped through some papers. “I knew all this already. I was born in Ireland, so was he…” He grinned as he held up a picture of himself at about eight years old, one of the generic school pictures taken in every elementary school. “Christ.”

Connor grabbed it and laughed. “It’s an embarrassment, bein’ born in tha seventies. Polyester, plaid, just plain WRONG. I have somethin’ just like this.” He giggled as he looked at Murphy. “Look at ya, though…missin’ yer two front teeth. How cute.”

“M’not cute,” Murphy muttered, but he smiled as he said it. “Here’s one where I AM cute, though. Have ya seen a cuter baby?” He handed over a torn photograph of his father holding a small baby, wrapped in blankets. “Nasty car, but cute baby.”

“M’sure yer not as cute as…” Connor’s heart thudded to a stop as he stared at the picture in his hand. The picture was jagged on the right side, as if it had been torn. A tall man with dark hair and beard held a baby wrapped in blankets. The man didn’t smile, and he held the baby uncomfortably. Behind the man was a huge car. A giant…yellow…car. “Fuck.”

“What? Connor?” Murphy smiled and nudged him. “Didya eat too much? Don’t ya be pukin’ on tha bed. Go in tha bathroom.”

“Shut tha fuck up, Murphy.” Connor stared at the picture. “Where’s tha other half of this?”

“Dunno.” Murphy shrugged. “Maybe me Ma was in it. He never liked ta talk about her. Maybe it hurt too much or somethin’.”

Connor fell to his knees, ignoring the pain that shot through them as he hit the ground. He put the picture in his mouth and groped for his own envelope of photos, blindly pawing through them until he found what he wanted. He smoothed out the bedspread, pushed the other pictures onto the floor, and lay the one in his mouth down, placing his own picture next to it. “What tha fuck?”

“Connor, WHAT is your problem?” Murphy asked, starting to get worried. “Yer actin’…” He glanced down at the two pictures that Connor was staring at. Two pictures, torn at opposite edges, that fit together absolutely perfectly. “…insane…” he finished, eyes widening.


	31. Chapter 31

HOME  
Thirty-One

 

Murphy stared at Connor. “Where…where’d ya get that?”

“Me Ma gave me some pictures. I found a bunch o’ pictures that were torn like this…figured me Da was in tha other half.”

“Makes sense,” Murphy said. He looked at the pictures again. “They, uh, they fit together perfectly.”

“Yeah.” Connor wouldn’t let himself think about the possibilities. COULDN’T think about them. This was some kind of nightmare. “So, yer sure that’s you?”

“Yeah. That’s me Da. What other baby would he be holdin’?” Murphy sat down hard, scattering pictures and things as he did so. “An’ you?”

“M’an only child,” Connor said quietly. “Only one way ta figure this out.” He went for his wallet and pulled out his credit card. He then went to the phone on the nightstand.

“It’s too fuckin’ early,” the voice on the other end rasped.

“Ma?”

“Connor? What tha hell are ya doin’ callin’ me at this hour? Is everythin’ okay?” He heard his mother sit up. “It’s eight-thirty here, which makes it…”

“Still tha middle of tha night here, Ma, yeah. I know. Everythin’ is NOT okay.” Connor covered his end of the phone. “What’s his name?”

“Who?” Murphy asked, still staring at the pictures. He was holding Connor’s side of the picture, hand shaking slightly. 

“Yer Da, idiot!”

“Uh, Malachy. Malachy MacManus.”

“Ma, who is Malachy MacManus?”

The only sound for a long moment was the buzzing of the long distance connection. “What makes ya call in tha fuckin’…”

“Answer me, Ma,” Connor snapped, his voice full of a venom neither his mother nor Murphy had ever heard. “Answer me NOW.”

“He was just someone I used ta know. That’s all.”

“Someone ya used ta know?” Connor met Murphy’s gaze. Murphy’s eyes were wide with shock. “Didya know him well?”

Ma let out a harrumphing sigh. “Well, ya might as well know. Yeah, I knew him well enough. He was the lowdown worthless bastard who left us when ya were just a wee babe. He was yer Da.”

“Christ,” Connor whispered, and he could feel his face grow pale. Murphy dropped the picture and scrambled off the bed, almost falling over his own feet at the look in Connor’s eyes. “Me Da?”

“What’s goin’ on, Connor?” Ma demanded. “How do ya know his name?”

“He just died,” Connor told her. “Was murdered, actually.”

“Oh.” Ma’s voice was quiet for a long moment. “No more than he deserved, m’sure,” she said, though her voice was different. Almost…nostalgic. “Still doesn’t answer me question, Connor. How did you even find out about him?”

“Tell me, Ma. Would I happen ta have, oh, I don’t know, a fuckin’ BROTHER?” Connor screamed into the phone.

“What?” Ma whispered.

“What if, by chance, the reason I found out about Malachy MacManus is because I met his son at school? His son named Murphy, whose birthday just so HAPPENS to be April fourteenth, nineteen seventy-two?”

“M-Murphy? You met Murphy?” Ma sounded vulnerable now, like a total stranger. 

“Is…he…my…brother?” Connor asked through clenched teeth. “Do I have a twin brother?”

“Yes,” Ma whispered, and if he wasn’t so absolutely insane with fury, Connor would have been shocked to hear that she was crying. “There were two o’ya. Me an’ yer Da knew we couldn’t stay t’gether, that we’d just fight an’ probably kill each other. So, we went our separate ways. I was gonna keep ya both, but money was tight as it was…an’ Malachy said he couldn’t bear ta leave ya both, so we each took one o’ ya.”

“An’ were ya ever gonna tell me?”

“Someday,” she said. “When…”

“I don’t want ta hear it, Ma. I’ll call ya back another time.”

“Connor…”

Connor slammed the phone down, staring at his hand. The receiver had cracked with the force of him hanging up, and he felt a piece of plastic digging into his skin, though he didn’t notice the pain. He slowly looked up. Murphy was curled into a ball on the chair in the corner, knees drawn up. “Tell me.”

“Murph…”

“TELL me what she said.”

“Malachy MacManus was me Da,” Connor said in a dull voice, still unable to wrap his mind around what was happening. “They knew they’d end up killin’ each other, not gettin’ along, so they went their separate ways, each one of them takin’ a twin boy.”

“Twin boy?” Murphy stared at him. “So, it’s true.” He felt his heart thump its way down into his shoes, turning his stomach into a nauseous ball of nerves on the way down.

“Aye. Yer…yer me brother.” 

“Yer bleedin’.” Murphy slid off the chair and picked up one of his t-shirts from the floor. He moved to clean off Connor’s hand, but Connor yanked it out of reach. “Connor…”

“Don’t touch me.” Connor’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t.”

“Connor…I…”

“We…we’re fuckin’ brothers. Murphy, we’re BROTHERS.” 

“I know, Connor, I was sittin’ here tha whole time, remember?” Murphy snapped.

“What are we gonna do?” Connor whispered. “What have we done?”

“We didn’t know, Connor. It’s not our fault.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Connor blindly swiped his wallet from the nightstand, along with one of the pictures on the bed. “I gotta go. Gotta get outta here.”

“Connor!” Murphy yelled. “Please don’t go!”

Connor didn’t answer, simply grabbed his coat and went for the door. He gave one last look over his shoulder, a look of such infinite sadness that Murphy fell to his knees as the door closed.


	32. Chapter 32

HOME  
Thirty-Two

 

Murphy stared at the closed door for a long moment. He couldn’t move, just waited for Connor to come back. But Connor didn’t come back. Time passed, and soon Murphy slowly stood up, feeling as if he were moving underwater. He looked down at the bed, where the half of the picture with Connor’s mother still lay.

Connor’s mother. HIS mother. It was almost impossible to wrap his brain around that. He had a mother, alive and well, in Ireland. He decided to focus on that for a long moment, to keep the other, more horrific thoughts from taking over. Murphy wondered if she ever thought of him, if she lay awake thinking about if he was okay, or if his Da was taking good care of him. Murphy didn’t know what else to imagine; he knew nothing about what mothers were even like, really. Most of his friends growing up weren’t really close to their parents, and a lot of the time Murphy wasn’t in the same place long enough to get to know anyone well in the first place. He also got the idea from Connor that his mother wasn’t exactly the most affectionate, loving person on the planet, but that didn’t matter. She was his mother.

She was their mother. That thought finally settled into place. She was THEIR mother. As in both of them. As in they were twins and they had the same parents. Murphy let the picture fall to the ground, hands fisting in his hair. It wasn’t fair. It was so wrong he could barely stand the thought, and he had long ago assumed that any sort of moral debate about right and wrong would never have an effect on him. Apparently he was mistaken. The shock of what they had done was flowing through his system, though in his heart of hearts, he knew that they were innocent. They had no clue. Why in the world would they have ever assumed it? 

But that was before they had known. They knew now. And nothing could be the same. Murphy slowly got his coat on, picking up the rosary from the bed. He slid it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. He liked the feeling of the cool beads against his skin. He left the room, not sure where he was going, but needing to be away from that place where Connor had left him.

 

Connor stumbled out of the inn and down the sidewalk. It was close to four in the morning, and he knew it wasn’t safe to be wandering the streets, yet he could think of nowhere to go. He found himself back on campus, and he quickly found a bench to flop down on, burying his face in the front of his coat. Murphy was his twin. Murphy was his BROTHER. It was so wrong, yet so painful that he felt as if he could hardly breathe. 

Connor pulled his hand out of his pocket, where it was clenching the picture of baby Murphy in the arms of Malachy MacManus. Sadly, he couldn’t feel much of a loss knowing that he would never know his father. Murphy definitely had not painted the best picture of him, and for some odd reason, growing up, Connor had never missed having a father, though the idea of it was a sore enough spot. He had been called a piece of fatherless trash by many kids in the neighborhood, and one of the reasons he had learned martial arts and fighting was so that he could quickly learn to make them take back the nasty words and regret ever saying them. He knew his mother was a strong woman, and she had taught him to never look back, never wonder about the past that he didn’t have.

But now he was furious with her. She should have told him. Should have let him know that he had a connection to someone, that there was another part of him out there. It wasn’t like he’d go out and look for them, especially after the way she had bad-mouthed his father. And now, unfortunately, he DID have a connection to Murphy, in ways that no one could have possibly imagined. He loved Murphy with all his heart and every inch of his soul. Connor had always wondered about the way he had felt tied to Murphy from the first second he had laid eyes on him. And now he knew. He had seen television shows and read articles about how twins felt some sort of supernatural connection. He was sure all the doctors and researchers would have a field day with he and Murphy. His other half. His lover. His twin.

 

As the sun came up, Murphy realized that he had ambled aimlessly through town for almost an hour. He stopped to get his bearings, realizing that he had never really been in this part of the small college town. He looked up at the closest building, smiling a bit as he recognized it as a Catholic church. It wasn’t very big, or very fancy, but he couldn’t ignore the irony. He slowly climbed the steps, reading on the door that the sanctuary was open at five a.m. for private worship, and that Mass would be held at six-thirty.

Murphy pushed the heavy doors open and went into the church, which was dimly lit and quiet as a tomb. He stopped at the basin of holy water, dipping his fingers in and clumsily crossing himself. It had been a long time since he had been in a church. He walked up the aisle, his footsteps swallowed by thick red carpeting. He slid into a pew about a quarter of the way up, and only after shrugging himself out of his coat did he look around, rubbing his arms to get warm. The church was beautiful, with delicate stained glass windows and beautiful wooden carving. 

A hand on his shoulder made him jump. “My son, are you in need of confession?”

Murphy turned around. A priest in his fifties stood in the aisle, smiling down at him. “If ya only knew, Father,” he replied softly. “But I think…I think m’gonna just sit out here, if ya don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” The hand briefly squeezed Murphy’s shoulder, then released it. “We’re here for you. Take all the time you need.”

Murphy knelt, bending his arms on the pew in front of him and clasping his hands under his chin. He tried to think of the right thing to say, but all that came out was, “I’m sorry. We didn’t know. I love him and I know I can’t. Please bring him back. Please bring him back. I’ll be his brother. I can’t lose him. Please.”


	33. Chapter 33

HOME  
Thirty-Three

 

Connor let himself back into the hotel room. The curtains were still drawn, and the morning sun attempted to filter through their thick folds. He could make out a form on the bed, and his heart ached. He saw his bag on the floor where he had originally dropped it, and picked it up, shoving the rest of the pictures and things back into it. He then paused by the bed, staring down at Murphy’s still form.

 

Murphy plodded back to the room, feet dragging at the thought of returning to the place where Connor had deserted him. He understood what Connor was feeling; it scared the shite out of him as well. But they needed to talk. They were brothers, first and foremost. He wasn’t going to lose this connection to himself. Not now. If Connor only would talk to him one more time, Murphy would make him do it. He needed information about their mother. He had decided that he wanted to call her, wanted to hear her explain things to him.

He let himself into the room, tossing the key in the general direction of the dresser. He yanked off his shoes and took off his coat, but didn’t take off anything else. Murphy suddenly felt as if he could never be warm again. He crawled under the covers of the bed, shivering. He felt weary to the bone, yet he knew he couldn’t sleep. He wondered if he’d ever sleep again.

Murphy lay there for a while, and heard the doorknob turn. His whole body stiffened, yet he made no move to get up. He hoped Connor was there to stay, but when he heard the rustle of Connor’s bag, his heart sank. Obviously Connor wasn’t interested in talking. Not then.

 

Connor wanted to leave, ordered his legs to head for the door. He couldn’t do it. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand reaching out to feel for Murphy. He ran it along the line of Murphy’s arm, muscular and firm even under the thick blankets. He could feel Murphy shivering. “Christ, Murph,” he finally whispered, letting his fingers ghost along Murphy’s cheek before stroking over Murphy’s hair. “M’so sorry.”

Murphy rolled over, his eyes finding Connor’s familiar shape even in the dark. “For what, Connor? Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong.”

“I…I’m sorry I walked out on ya. I just…I needed ta go.” Connor sniffled, running a hand over his nose. “Needed ta be away from ya. Thought I could walk away. But then I came back here ta get me stuff, an’ I saw ya layin’ here…”

“C’mere.” Murphy tugged at his sleeve. “Just drop yer stuff an’ lay here with me. On top o’ tha blankets if it makes ya feel better.”

Connor didn’t even stop to think. He shrugged out of his coat, threw down his bag, and kicked off his shoes. He stretched out on top of the bedspread, one arm thrown carelessly over Murphy’s waist. “Yer shiverin’.”

“Can’t get warm,” Murphy said, unconsciously snuggling closer to Connor. “Ever since…well…I went fer a walk…ended up at a church.”

Connor snorted. “M’surprised they let ya in tha door.”

“No one knows, Connor, okay?” Murphy snapped. “WE didn’t know. It’s not our fault. Anythin’ after this, yeah. That’s our fault. But He knows we were innocent. Of THAT, anyway.” He sighed. “Where did YOU go?”

“Just walked, thought a bit.” Connor lay his head against Murphy’s, rubbing at Murphy’s arm a bit, trying to warm him. “Was gonna come back here an’ grab me stuff an’ leave, but then I saw ya there…” he repeated, trailing off.

“I know.” Murphy slid an arm out from under the covers and took Connor’s hand. “Look, Conn…I love ya. I love ya tha only way I know how, an’ it’s NOT brotherly. I can’t fight that. I don’t know how ta love ya like a brother.”

Connor tried to pull his hand away. “Murph…”

“Lemme finish,” Murphy snapped. “M’not sayin’ that we can keep doin’ that, because I know it’s wrong. It’s just gonna take a while.”

“Aye,” Connor said sadly. “I don’t know how ta think of ya in any other way but this.” He threaded his fingers in with Murphy’s.

“The other problem, I realized, is Steve. He saw us, knows about us. We can’t just up an’ tell him guess what, we’re brothers.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Connor breathed. “I totally forgot about that. Guess it’s good we didn’t tell anyone else.” He thought for a moment. “I love ya, Murph, but Christ, it’ll be so damn hard bein’ around ya.”

“I know.” Murphy took a deep breath. “Well, it’s not like we really ran in tha same circles, anyway. We just have ta back off, not spend time t’gether fer a while.”

“I’m not lookin’ ta get back inta my “circle,” Murphy,” Connor said. “But I guess yer right. Ya can just tell Steve we fought or somethin’, that I’m tha prick he always thought I was.”

“M’so sorry,” Murphy whispered. Connor cupped Murphy’s face in his hand, turning so they could lean their foreheads together. 

“So m’I,” Connor said softly. He hesitated, then gave Murphy one long, gentle kiss. 

“Stay tonight,” Murphy said. “Just lay here with me. We won’t…we can’t…”

“M’not leavin’ ya again,” Connor promised. He climbed under the covers with Murphy and they fell asleep, arms around each other, but doing nothing else.


	34. Chapter 34

HOME  
Thirty-Four

 

Connor woke up, warm and comfortable under the covers, his chest pressed against something hard and familiar. Murphy’s back. He buried his face in Murphy’s hair, inhaling deeply. His lips slowly trailed against the warm skin of the nape of Murphy’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Murphy, pulling him tight and close. This was the perfect way to awaken, embracing the thing that he loved most.

Murphy smiled into his pillow as he felt Connor kiss his neck. He burrowed back, letting his backside thrust against Connor’s body. He moaned, happy and content, stuck in that brief place between awake and asleep. His hand trailed up and down the arms that were wrapped around him, fingernails digging in as Connor’s tongue licked along his skin. “Mmm…” Murphy growled, arching his back against Connor.

Connor hissed in a breath as Murphy’s ass hit his awakening cock. He met the thrust with one of his own, teeth digging in to the back of Murphy’s neck as he fully awakened. “Murphy…” He gasped, releasing him.

“Yeah, Conn?” Murphy turned as soon as Connor’s embrace lessened, his hands wrapping around Connor’s neck. He pressed a clumsy kiss to Connor’s mouth, fighting to wake up completely and enjoy the moment. His eyes widened even as his lips moved against Connor’s. “Oh, Jesus,” he whispered, pulling away. 

They stared at each other, panting for breath. Murphy’s hands were still at the back of Connor’s head. Connor’s arms were rigid around Murphy, hands flexing and unflexing at the tempting firmness of Murphy’s body just inches away. “We can’t,” Connor rasped, swallowing hard.

“Right. We can’t. Not anymore,” Murphy said, nodding. He began to pull his arms back, fingers trailing through Connor’s hair and down the sides of Connor’s neck.

Connor moaned slightly, his body having a totally different idea than his brain. Goosebumps covered his skin as Murphy’s hand lightly touched his throat. “We’re not…we can’t…” Connor clutched at Murphy, pulling him closer even as he tried to make himself move away.

“No,” Murphy said weakly, his body moving forward against Connor’s without him even noticing. He felt Connor’s hands sink down onto his ass and grab hard. “We didn’t know last time was tha last time. It’s not fair.” He licked his lips and met Connor’s eyes.

“No…it’s not…but we…” Connor groaned as he watched that red tongue slide over the kiss-stung lips.

“We’re not doing this.” Murphy yanked Connor closer, kissing him hard. “Not anymore.”

“No, we’re not.” Connor tugged at Murphy’s t-shirt, trying desperately to get him as close as possible. “Because we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“So fuckin’ wrong,” Murphy gasped, wriggling out of the shirt and yanking at Connor’s until it was gone as well. He arched up into Connor’s caresses, sighing with relief as Connor finally lay over him, their bodies moving together perfectly.

“I know it’s wrong…but I want ya so fuckin’ bad,” Connor gasped.

“No one needs ta know,” Murphy said, pulling Connor’s hair as Connor’s mouth came in contact with one of his nipples.

Connor moaned as his tongue licked hard fast circles around the nipple, then sucked it into his mouth. “No one…” 

“Fuck, yes, please, Con…fuck me, please…one last time…need ta feel ya…” Murphy shoved his hands down the back of Connor’s jeans, pulling Connor tight against him. “Got lube in me bag…just do it…then we can be…we can only be…what we are.” Murphy couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Get undressed,” Connor commanded, throwing the covers back. He turned on the small lamp by the bed before getting up. He yanked off his pants and dug through Murphy’s bag until he found the tube of lubricant and a condom. 

Murphy obeyed, sending his own pants and socks flying. His eyes ran over Connor hungrily, drinking in every inch of the golden skin. He grabbed the lube from Connor before he could even get back on the bed, slicking up his own fingers and slowly sliding one inside. “Let me…just need ta be ready enough…need ya in me.”

“Jesus,” Connor whispered, staring as Murphy slowly worked the fingers inside. “That’s so fuckin’…”

“I want ya ta remember this,” Murphy said quietly, moaning and arching up as he hit just the right spot. “Never forget.”

“I won’t…ever…” Connor promised. He picked up the condom, slid it on, then used the lube to coated his aching cock. “Need ya, Murphy…need this…”

“Aye, Connor, please…” Murphy wrapped his legs around Connor’s waist as Connor knelt before him. Connor lined himself up, carefully moved inside, and then let his weight fall onto his forearms as he placed them on either side of Murphy’s head.

“Love you, Murphy…so fuckin’ much…so sorry…” Connor whispered, eyes closing as he moved inside.

“Not…your fault…oh, Connor…” Murphy wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. “No one’s fault…”

“So good…Murphy…” Connor moaned, thrusting harder and faster. “So perfect…”

“I love you, Connor,” Murphy whispered in his ear. “No matter what…”

“Me, too…Murphy…” Connor’s hand fumbled nervously as he reached between them to stroke Murphy. “Gonna…Murphy…”

Murphy gasped, arching into the heat of Connor’s hand. “Nhhhgggg…Connor…yes…”

They came together, as if they had planned it that way. Murphy’s entire body bowed up to Connor’s as Connor slammed inside one last time. Connor buried his head in Murphy’s neck, as Murphy turned his head to the side. They didn’t acknowledge the tears that fell, but both knew the other was crying.

Connor finally rolled to lay on his back. “I can’t stay here tonight,” he said softly. “Just…can’t.”

“An’ m’not ready ta go back ta tha dorms yet,” Murphy whispered. “I’ll go back tomorrow. Besides, this place is paid through tomorrow.”

“Aye,” Connor said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, holding his face in one hand.

“Connor?”

Murphy’s voice was soft and weak, two things Connor never associated with Murphy. Connor turned his head to look at Murphy, who was biting at his bottom lip. Connor swiftly bent down, capturing Murphy’s mouth in a hard kiss. He fisted his hand in Murphy’s hair, pulling so hard Murphy winced. Murphy’s hand clutched at Connor’s bare shoulder, leaving nail marks in the dark skin. Connor gasped as he released him, his eyes wandering over Murphy’s face. “Love ya so fuckin’ much, Murph.” 

“Love you, too.” Murphy jumped out of bed without another word, hurrying into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Connor was grateful. This way they wouldn’t have to look at each other when Connor finally left. No goodbyes.

 

Murphy let himself into the dorm room early Sunday evening. He tossed his things to the floor, not even noticing where they fell. “Got your note,” a voice said, and he slowly looked up. Steve’s eyes widened as the anger left his face. “Jesus, are you okay?”

“M’fine.” Murphy lay down on his bed, fisting his hands under the pillow.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Murphy closed his eyes, then opened them, forcing himself to focus on his roommate and best friend. “M’sorry I didn’t tell ya about Connor. It just…it was a strange situation, just sorta happened.”

“I’m not as mad as I was. I thought we were better friends than that.”

“We were. We are,” Murphy corrected himself. “I just couldn’t out Connor like that, an’ we hadn’t really talked about tellin’ people.”

“I see.” Steve sat up on his bed. “He have anything to do with the fact that you look like you were run over by a semi?”

“Aye,” Murphy said. He sat up as well, rubbing at his eyes. “But not really. Me Da died right before I got to Chicago.”

“Oh my God.” Steve stared at him. “I’m so sorry, Murphy. Are you…are you okay?”

“As okay as m’ever gonna be,” Murphy said with a sigh. “He left me some money. M’gonna finish out tha semester, but then I don’t know what I’m doin.’ An’ Connor…we…we realized it’s not goin’ ta work out between us, so we…we’re not together. Anymore.” Murphy finally met Steve’s gaze.

Steve was shocked at the sadness in the blue eyes. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thanks. Just…don’t say anythin’ ta anyone. About me an’ him. Okay?”

“I’m not gonna tell everyone he’s gay, if that’s what you mean. He’s not worth any of my time,” Steve said.

“Ya immediately think it’s his fault?” Murphy had to smile at that.

“He’s always been a conceited prick, Murph. I’m not surprised that he ended up being an even BIGGER prick.”

“He’s not,” Murphy said immediately. “It was mutual.”

“I still never liked the rat bastard.”

“Thanks,” Murphy said. “I appreciate knowin’ yer on my side.”

“Always have been,” Steve pointed out. “I was going to meet the others for dinner in a bit…feel like comin’ along?”

“Aye,” Murphy said. “The last thin’ I need is ta be alone right now.”

 

Connor lay on his bed in the dark, eyes staring into the blackness of the room. This was like a living, walking, waking nightmare. The thing he loved most in the world was a few doors down the hall, and he wasn’t allowed any part of it. Not the way he wanted it. He felt a weight pressing down on his chest, and it threatened to tear his heart into even smaller pieces. 

He sighed, sitting up and turning the light on. Sitting around moping was not going to make it better. He packed his bag and headed to the gym to work off some steam.


	35. Chapter 35

HOME  
Thirty-five

 

Connor trudged back from the library, fists deep in his pockets. He had gone there to do some research on a few unique and interesting legal cases, yet the words had only swam before his eyes until he got a headache. It had been two weeks since school had started back up, and he had run into Murphy a handful of times. He had done his best to avoid it; they had already memorized each other’s schedules before their worlds had come crashing down around them, and therefore he knew where Murphy would be when, and did his best not to be anywhere near those places at those times. Yet it was inevitable that they would see each other. They would give a friendly wave, toss a hello over a shoulder, but that was it. They did their best not to connect, though, at least to Connor, he always felt connected to Murphy as long as Murphy was within sight.

Connor avoided the elevator, tromping up the steps in his heavy boots. The nights were bitter, and he was grateful that Murphy had accepted his gift of the heavy winter coat. He hated to think of Murphy shivering in the cold. Lately, he hated thinking of Murphy at all, due to the immense aching pain it created in his heart.

He let himself into his room and stared at the phone. It was going on midnight back in Ireland, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. He needed to call his mother.

Thankfully, she was home. “Hello?”

“Ma.”

“Connor?”

He bit back a reply that went something along the lines of, “Yeah, now I guess ya DO have to clarify which son it is, don’t ya?” and instead said, “Yeah, Ma, it’s me.”

“How’ve ya been, boy?” Her voice softened in tone, a sound he heard very rarely. She usually used it when she felt true remorse for something she’d done.

“Fine. Busy with school an’ all…first weeks are usually a bitch.”

“M’sure they are.” A long pause. “Connor…”

“How didn’t I know, Ma? People in our town are nosy pains in the arse! How didn’t I know? They loved ta rub in that I didn’t have a Da…how could they possibly not add tha fact that I had a brother?”

“They didn’t know, Connor. We didn’t live there when ya were born, an’ believe it or not, tha family can keep a secret.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t live there? I thought…”

“We weren’t married, Connor. When I found out about havin’ a baby, we got a little place a few towns away, where Malachy’s family were from. Once we had tha two of ya, an’ thins were goin’ so bad for us, I moved back ta me family an’ he moved on with…with Murphy.”

“Jesus.” Connor rubbed at his forehead. “Look, Ma…I guess I can understand why ya kept it from me. Not exactly what I’d want ta hear, I know. But I just…m’havin’ a hard time dealin’ with it.”

“I’d think ya’d be happy ta know ya have a brother. I know ya always wanted one.”

Connor snorted with laughter. He couldn’t help it. It was true…during his childhood he had often wished for someone to play with, someone to get into trouble with. He had never imagined it could go this wrong, though. “Aye, Ma, that’s true. Look…I have a favor ta ask ya. I don’t think it’ll be too hard for ya, but I just want ya ta do it, all right?”

 

Murphy pushed away his plate, his sandwich half uneaten. He was never very hungry, though he knew he needed something to keep on going. Steve gave him attitude if he didn’t eat, so he ate. 

They were at a table in the dining hall with Will and Jacob, eating a late lunch between classes. Jacob and Steve were arguing about something trivial, while Will looked on and laughed. Steve stopped in mid-sentence, staring at something behind Murphy. “Well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hey, guys,” a familiar voice said.

Murphy swallowed deeply, his eyes slowly running up the all too familiar body. Connor was losing weight, and the smile lines around his eyes were almost invisible. “Hello, Connor.”

“How’ve you been?” Will asked him. Steve had told them nothing, and even Murphy had only said that he and Connor had had an argument and that they weren’t really talking.

“All right…busy,” Connor said evasively. “Hey, Murphy, can I talk ta ya for a second?”

“Can’t you talk to him here?” Steve asked.

Murphy slowly stood. “It’s all right, Steve. I have to go back for a book anyway. Headed anywhere near tha dorm?” He asked Connor, though he knew perfectly well that Connor was supposed to be in class at that very moment.

“Yeah, sure,” Connor said quickly. “See you later.” 

Murphy pulled on his coat and followed Connor out of the dining hall. They walked in silence through the campus. “So…how HAVE you been?” Murphy asked quietly.

Connor glared at him. “Fuckin’ wonderful. Never better. How can ya ask me that?”

“Back tha fuck off, Connor. I was just askin’,” Murphy growled. 

“Sorry. M’sorry, Murph.” Connor sighed. “Been fuckin’ miserable, if we’re bein’ honest.”

“Aye. M’self as well,” Murphy said. Connor stopped walking and looked him in the eye. “Miss ya, Conn,” Murphy whispered.

Connor simply nodded and started walking again, a lump in his throat the size of Texas. “So, I have somethin’ for ya.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Use it. I gotta go ta class.” He shoved the paper into Murphy’s hand, clutching at Murphy’s fingers for a brief moment before turning on one heel and hurrying away.

Murphy unfolded the paper with shaking hands.

Annabelle Flanery, he read in Connor’s handwriting. It was followed by a phone number, then, Call any time, day or night. She said it doesn’t matter. And call collect, too. I love you so much it hurts. Connor.

 

Murphy left supper early that night, heading back to the room with the knowledge that Steve was going to the library for a few hours after he finished eating. Murphy stared at his shoes as he entered the dorm, trying to rehearse exactly what he wanted to say to his mother. His mother. The two oddest words in the English language, at least to him.

“MacManus.”

Murphy jumped, whirling around. “Oh, Smecker, hey.”

“Make me sound like chopped liver, why don’t you?” The older man clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “Come with me, boy.”

“I needed ta make…” Murphy protested weakly, but Smecker was already leading him towards his small suite.

Smecker unlocked the door and let him in. As usual, Murphy was amazed by the neatness of the room, as if Smecker rarely even went into it. “So, MacManus. I’ve seen you for about all of five minutes since we’re back, just enough time to get an update on things around the dorm. You’ve said maybe ten words to me in passing. So, I guess I’m asking what the hell climbed up your ass.”

Murphy grinned. He couldn’t help it. “Do you really want to know?”

“Christ, MacManus, no,” Smecker said, rolling his eyes. “Sit.” He motioned to a chair. Murphy sat. Smecker then went to a small fridge and pulled out two bottles of imported beer. He opened one and handed it to Murphy. “Tell me.”

“Well, classes are goin’ good, an’…”

“Cut the bullshit, Murphy,” Smecker interrupted. Murphy sighed.

“Me Da died over break,” Murphy said. Smecker put down his beer. “He left me some money, I’m finishin’ tha semester, then I’ll probably drop out for a bit.”

“Christ, MacManus. Why didn’t you say something? You could have taken more time…”

“I didn’t need it,” Murphy said. “Appreciate it, though.”

“Are you okay?” Smecker looked him in the eye, and Murphy couldn’t lie.

“No. I don’t know what I’m doin’ or where I’m goin’ after this. I don’t want ta stay in school, but I gotta do it, at least for this semester. Then, I’m not sure. M’gonna stay in Boston, but that’s all I know. An’ then…” Murphy stared hard at the floor, ordering himself NOT to cry. “I hooked up with someone pretty fuckin’ special before tha holiday. It was perfect. Everythin’ I coulda wanted, an’ then some shite happened an’ it all went ta hell in a pretty nasty fuckin’ hand basket, an’ there ya go.” He looked back up. “An’ don’t ask what happened, because it’s between Connor an’ me, an’…”

“You and Flanery?” Smecker actually looked shocked. “I never would have seen THAT coming.”

“Neither did we,” Murphy said with a cold laugh. “But it happened, an’ it’s done, an’ it sucks, an’ we’re both miserable, an’ now that ya heard it all, can I go now?” Murphy jumped to his feet.

Smecker got up from his seat on the bed and walked over to him. “Murphy, if you need ANYTHING, you call, okay? EVER. You’re a good kid…smart, both streetwise and bookwise. I don’t want you wasting your life. I can find someone to help you around the dorm, if you need time, okay? And if you decide not to come back, you’ll always have my number.” He put a hand on Murphy’s shoulder.

The comforting words and touch were almost enough to drive Murphy over the edge. “Thank ya, Smecker.” He darted out of the room before the tears could fall.

He made it to his room, where he buried his face in a pillow for a few minutes until he had himself under control. He then dug out the piece of paper, stared at it for a minute, then dialed.

He heard the operator ask if Annabelle Flanery would accept the charges from Murphy MacManus, and then he heard an accented voice reply, “Aye, I do.”

“Go ahead,” the operator said.

“Uh, this is Murphy.”

“Hello, Murphy.”

“Connor, well, uh, he said I should call ya,” Murphy went on, feeling like an idiot.

“M’glad ya did,” Annabelle said. “So, Murphy, tell me about yerself. Lots I need ta know, lots I missed out on.”

Murphy smiled. She was just as Connor had described her. “Well, Mrs. Flanery, I…”

“I know ya can’t call me Ma,” she interrupted. “But m’not Mrs. Flanery, or Mrs. MacManus. Never was. Ya can call me Anna, okay?”

“Aye, Anna,” Murphy said, starting to relax a bit. “So, what do ya want ta know?”


	36. Chapter 36

HOME  
Thirty-Six

 

Weeks went by, then a few months. Hints of spring appeared around campus, yet Murphy still felt cold and dead inside. He knew that Steve and his other friends assumed he was still mourning his father, which he was. It was hard knowing that he was on his own now, without someone to fall back on.

This wasn’t exactly true. He spoke with Anna Flanery every other week, and by the beginning of April, their conversations were warm and friendly, if nothing else. Murphy could definitely see the harsh woman who Connor had spoken of, yet she did seem to be truly interested in Murphy and his life growing up. She had yet to ask about his father, but he could tell that the questions were often on the tip of her tongue. One day he’d bring it all up, though he wasn’t quite ready yet.

Sometimes Murphy felt a stab in his heart at the irony of things. He had lost a father, gained a mother, gained a brother and lost a lover…all in a matter of moments.

 

“You should come out with us on Saturday, Connor. It’s supposed to be a great place.”

Connor chewed at a sandwich as he took notes with his free hand. He finished his bite before answering. “I have a lot ta do, Joey, but thank ya.”

“C’mon, Connor,” another student whined. “You haven’t gone out with us in weeks.”

Connor smiled a rare smile. “Maybe that’s because I give a shite about what tha hell I’m here for. You never study, Alan.”

“And I still get good grades,” Alan pointed out.

Connor shook his head, taking a large swallow of his soda. He had become fairly good friends with a few of the boys from his martial arts class. He had taken another class during the second semester, even though his physical education requirement had been fulfilled after his first semester. They hung out together quite often, though he took his studies a bit more seriously than his new friends did. Still, they managed to distract him from thoughts of Murphy, and now and then he even caught himself having a good time with them. It was made easier by the fact that they didn’t live in his dorm, and therefore he had a good reason to not be around his room as much.

“Hey, Conn, how about him?” Joey said in a low voice.

Connor looked up and choked on his soda. He had come out to them almost immediately, having learned that keeping secrets from anyone you wanted to be close to could only end in disaster. They were fine with it, and often teased him by trying to find new guys for him to try and hook up with. “Uh, no, thanks.” Connor looked down at his notebook.

“Hey, Joe, this time he didn’t say “not my type.” Must mean something,” Alan said with a grin.

Connor tried to brush them off as he watched Murphy walk across the quad. “Oh, just that I’ve been there, done that.”

“REALLY?” Joey grabbed Connor’s pen. “Tell us more.”

“I don’t fuck an’ tell,” Connor said primly, stealing his pen back. 

“Ugh.” Alan pretended to gag. 

Connor smiled. They were fine with his lifestyle choice, yet didn’t like hearing any details. “Let it go, all right?”

“Fine,” Joey grumbled. “So, about this weekend…”

“It’s my birthday on Saturday,” Connor said softly. This was the one thing that made him think of Murphy the most. Their shared birthday. He wondered what Murphy would be doing, if he had plans, or, God forbid, a date. He hadn’t seen Murphy with anyone special besides his friends, not that Murphy would be flaunting a relationship.

“An even BETTER reason to go out with us,” Joey crowed.

“Joe, stop. Please. I don’t want to go out this weekend, okay?” Connor’s eyes were dark and his voice was firm.

“Sure…okay. Just want you to have fun sometimes, Connor,” Joey said, holding his hands up.

“I don’t have time for fun.” Connor bent back over his book.

 

“Consider yourself kidnapped.” Steve, Will and Jacob entered Murphy and Steve’s dorm room on Saturday, slamming the door and leaning against it.

“What?” Murphy looked up with a laugh. He was laying on his bed, trying to write a letter to Anna. There were a few things he felt shy about asking her over the phone, and she had given him her address the third time they had talked.

“No one should sit around on their birthday,” Jacob said sternly. 

“I know someone who’s having a party off campus tonight, and we’re going,” Will said. “No argument.”

“Look, guys, I appreciate it, but…”

“No buts, Murph. You’re gonna stop moping around and go out with us and have fun,” Steve ordered. “You’re gonna get drunk off your ass, maybe get laid, though you damn well better NOT get laid in here.”

Murphy sat up, laughing out loud. “Okay, okay. M’kidnapped. Got it.”

 

Hours later, Murphy stumbled up the steps of the dorm, too impatient to wait for the elevator. He had left his friends at the party, not wanting to drag them back with him. He had dutifully tried to have fun, drinking hard and fast and reaching a comfortable level of intoxication quite early. The crowd was mostly a preppy sort of student that he wasn’t comfortable with, and he had made his excuses to his friends and slipped out as soon as possible. 

He shoved the key at the lock, unable to get it to connect. Growling with frustration, he leaned against the door, eyes closed. Inevitably, his mind wandered to Connor. He wondered if Connor had plans that night, if he was celebrating his birthday with a pretty boy somewhere, getting a birthday piece of ass. Murphy sighed. Going into that room alone and sitting in the dark was NOT something he was looking forward to. It was way too late, however, to go knocking on doors looking for conversation. He wasn’t too drunk to realize THAT.

He pushed himself up off the door and grinned. He knew ONE person who would still be up. And if he wasn’t, Murphy had NO problems wakening him.

 

“MacManus, what the hell are YOU doing here?” Smecker leaned in the doorway, wearing only a pair of cotton pajama bottoms.

“Came ta celebrate my birthday,” Murphy said, pushing Smecker aside and entering his room. “Thought ya might want ta celebrate with me.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” Smecker grumbled. “You’re not drunk are you, because you’re not of age and I should probably turn you in…”

“You won’t turn me in.” Murphy flopped onto Smecker’s bed, smiling up at him. “Ya like me too much ta do that.”

“Whatever.” Smecker picked up his robe and pulled it on. 

“Ya don’t need ta do that.” Murphy leaned back on his elbows and smiled up at Smecker. “Unless I make ya uncomfortable.”

“Murphy, if you weren’t drunk off your ass, I’d throw it out of this room in about a minute,” Smecker said, chuckling and shaking his head. “What the hell are you up to?” He leaned against the back of a nearby chair.

“Nothin’.” Murphy lay back all the way, sighing. He wasn’t sure WHY he had come to Smecker, just that he knew he didn’t want to be alone. “Went ta a party with tha guys…boring as fuck, though, so I left. Didn’t feel like bein’ around other people.”

“You just wanted to mope.” Smecker shook his head. “Christ, Murphy, when are you gonna get over that kid? He wasn’t good enough for you, anyway.” He watched Murphy carefully.

“I AM over him!” Murphy sat back up, wincing as the room swam a bit. “An’ he was perfectly good enough for me.”

“So, you’re saying that if Connor Flanery walked through that door right now, asking to take you back, you’d say no?”

“Let’s not talk about him, all right?” Murphy smiled and stood, weaving a bit on his feet. “Ya know what? Let’s not talk at all.” He slowly sauntered the few feet to where Smecker was standing, and tugged a bit at the belt of his robe.

“MacManus, get your fucking hands off me.” Smecker actually looked uncomfortable. “You don’t want this.”

“Aye, but I do. Ya said that if I ever needed anythin’, I should come ta you.” Murphy smiled sweetly, his fingers finally undoing the knot. “An’ I know ya’ve always liked me a bit better than everyone else here. No one would need ta know.”

“Murphy, when you wake up, you’re going to kick yourself in the ass for this. Why don’t you just go back to your room and sleep it off?”

“Yeah, go back to my room. That’s a great idea,” Murphy said sarcastically, letting the belt run through his hands. “That way I can lay there an’ dream about him. Nightmares, really…all tha reasons why we can’t be t’gether. Today’s his birthday, too, ya know that?” Murphy yanked hard on the belt, and Smecker tumbled forward, unaware. Murphy caught him at the shoulders and planted a hard kiss on his mouth.

Smecker grabbed at Murphy’s arms to steady himself. The first thought that crossed his mind was that for newly nineteen years old, Murphy MacManus was one helluva kisser. The second thought was that deep down inside, he had always wondered how Murphy WAS at kissing. The third thought, thankfully, was the right one, which involved shoving Murphy away. “Murphy, stop it. I’m not who you want.”

“How do you know that?” Murphy asked angrily. “Maybe I’m horny an’ lookin’ ta get laid.”

“Maybe I’m not interested, you stupid fuck,” Smecker snapped back, trying to get a hold of himself. “Maybe I don’t value a drunken piece of ass over my job.”

“Maybe I’d be worth your job.” Murphy smirked as he leaned in for another kiss. 

“MacManus, don’t make me punch you,” Smecker warned, taking a few steps away.

“Christ.” Murphy sat down on the bed, burying his face in his hands. “What tha hell am I doing?”

Smecker sat down next to him, a few feet of space safely between them. “You’re still hurting, Murphy. But you need to get over it. You have enough to worry about.”

“I don’t want ta get over him.” Murphy punched the bed. “I want HIM.”

“I can see that calm and rational is going to get me nowhere with you right now.” Smecker stood, dragging Murphy up with him. “I want you out of my room NOW. I don’t want to see you again until you’ve had at least eight cups of coffee and can count to ten. Backwards. While standing on one foot with your eyes closed.”

Murphy smiled lazily, lifting one foot and closing his eyes. “Ten…nine…” He wove on his foot, swaying in mid air.

“You stupid fuck,” Smecker growled. “Get out of here.” He grabbed Murphy and led him to the door. Murphy giggled and slung an arm around him, using Smecker to hold himself up.

“Wish things were different,” Murphy mumbled against Smecker’s shoulder.

“You can say that again,” Smecker muttered, opening the door.

“Help me to my room?” Murphy asked innocently, leaning even closer.

“When I took this job, they didn’t tell me I’d be working in a fucking sorority,” Smecker said with a sigh. He went down the hall in his bare feet, Murphy swaying beside him. As they passed Connor’s room, Murphy slowed down a bit, his eyes never leaving the door. Smecker stopped walking. 

“What’re ya doin’?” Murphy asked. “Smecker…”

Smecker pounded on the door. It flew open, and an angry Connor Flanery stood on the other side. “What tha…oh, Smecker, hey.” Connor’s eyes widened as he looked at Murphy. “Hello, Murph.”

“I’m done with this. You take him.” Smecker shoved Murphy at Connor, who barely caught him in time to save him from hitting the floor. “Whatever your problem is, fix it. And tell him if he ever shows up at my door drunk and horny like this again, I’ll kick his ass.” Smecker headed back down the hall, leaving Connor standing there with Murphy in his arms.


	37. Chapter 37

HOME  
Thirty-Seven

 

Murphy closed his eyes and inhaled, drinking in the familiar scent of Connor’s skin. “Hey,” he said weakly, clutching at Connor’s shirt. “Connor…”

Connor allowed himself the brief moment of burying his face in Murphy’s hair. “C’mon, Murph.” He slowly pulled back, making sure Murphy could stand on his own. “Let’s get ya ta bed.”

“All right.” Murphy brushed past Connor and entered the room, flopping onto Connor’s bed. Papers flew everywhere. “What tha fuck is all this?”

“Some of us study,” Connor griped, grabbing the pages and stacking them. “Which is what I was doing when ya so rudely interrupted me.”

“Wasn’t me. Was Smecker,” Murphy corrected. He lay down, hands behind his head. “I was mindin’ me own business.”

“Whatever. Let’s go ta your room, get ya inta bed,” Connor said, holding out a hand to help Murphy up. Murphy took the hand, but yanked at it, pulling Connor down with him. Connor braced himself on his elbows, propping himself up on either side of Murphy, making sure to avoid as much physical contact as possible.

“Happy birthday, Connor,” Murphy whispered, reaching up to brush some hair from Connor’s face.

“You, too,” Connor said. “Murphy…”

“Went ta a party, tried ta celebrate,” Murphy told him. “Somethin’ was missin’, though…didn’t really feel like bein’ there.”

“Yeah, my friends tried ta get me ta go out, too,” Connor said, slowly rolling away from Murphy. He hoped that innocent conversation would be enough to distract Murphy and get him off the bed. All the old feelings were rolling to the surface, and he was doing his best to fight them. Murphy looked tired and thin, but still beautiful to him. “Didn’t want ta, though.”

“Aye.” Murphy turned to face Connor. “No use celebratin’ when what I wanted could never be.” 

“Murphy, we talked about this…”

“If I had a cake, with candles ta blow out an’ wish on, I’d wish for this. Right here.” He gripped Connor at tha back of the neck, pulling him in for a hard kiss. “Want ya for me birthday, Conn. Don’t ya want me?”

“Murphy, stop it.” Connor shoved at Murphy’s chest, but Murphy had more upper body strength, and held him close. Murphy’s tongue slid inside Connor’s mouth, and Connor almost melted against him, letting Murphy ravage his mouth.

“Do ya really want that, Connor?” Murphy’s hands slid down the back of Connor’s thin t-shirt. “No one would know. It’d just be us…just this once.”

“And then another time an’ another time.” It took every ounce of Connor’s willpower to shove Murphy away. “There will always be an excuse, Murph. You’re drunk. Let’s get you back ta your room where ya belong.”

“Is that tha problem? M’drunk?” Murphy sat up as well. “Then let’s get ya drunk. I bet Smecker can get ya some booze, an’…”

“Just shut tha fuck up, Murph, please,” Connor begged. “I don’t wanna say no ta ya, but this is wrong. Don’t ya see?” Connor chuckled to himself. “Of course not. Yer too fuckin’ drunk ta see anythin’.”

“We love each other, Connor. Doesn’t that mean anythin’?” Murphy put his hand on Connor’s knee. “We could just…not tell anyone. It’d be our secret. I learned a long time ago that some o’ God’s laws have ta be broken. It can’t be helped.”

“Are ya ready ta live that way, Murphy? I don’t know if I am,” Connor said. He squeezed Murphy’s hand. “I love ya, so much, but…”

“Fuck you,” Murphy said savagely, hopping to his feet and swaying a bit. “Guess deep down yer still just tha spoiled little rich pretty boy ya were when I met ya. Yer too good for me, aren’t ya?”

“Murph…” Connor said helplessly.

“I wish I never woulda met ya, Connor Flanery. Wish ya never woulda saved me from those guys in that alley last year. Wish ya woulda just turned tha other way an’ let them beat me ta a fuckin’ pulp. Then I never woulda got ta know ya, an’ I never woulda fallen for ya.” 

“Murphy, m’your brother. We can’t…”

“No, you’re not.” Murphy sat down, clutching at his head. “I don’t have any family. Definitely not you. My brother would never break my heart.” Murphy lay down again, closing his eyes. “M’gonna rest a minute, an’ then m’outta here, don’t ya worry.” His eyes fluttered open and he glared at Connor. “Fuckin’ HATE ya, Connor.”

Connor jumped up and took a few steps, grabbing at the back of his desk chair. When he could finally turn around and know that he wouldn’t start crying like a baby, he saw that Murphy was fast asleep on his bed, the scowl etched on his sleeping features.

 

Murphy spit and sputtered at the sawdust that filled his mouth. He smacked his dry lips a bit, his eyes slowly fluttering open. The first thing he saw was that he wasn’t in his room. The second thing he saw was Connor, curled into a ball on the floor, fast asleep. Murphy groaned, slowly sitting up. He had drank more and felt worse in the past, but something was grinding at his stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

He sat for a minute, getting his bearings and trying to remember what had happened the night before. “Christ, I hit on Smecker,” he realized out loud, burying his head in his hands. He knew that he wouldn’t hear the end of this one, possibly forever. Smecker had a twisted sense of humor. His eyes went back to his brother, who looked very cold and uncomfortable on the floor. Murphy didn’t know what to do. Waken him? Slip out? Cover him?

Murphy decided on option three, especially when his bladder ordered him to get up and go to the bathroom. He slowly stood, his brain cursing him for making the effort. He grabbed the top blanket on the bed and draped it over Connor’s sleeping form, letting one finger run along the stubbled jaw before he tiptoed out of the room and headed for the bathroom.

 

Connor woke up as something brushed over his skin. He heard the door close, and realized that he was covered with a blanket and alone in his room. He hadn’t even attempted to sleep on the bed that night, half afraid that Murphy might beat him in his sleep. He almost welcomed the thought; at least then Murphy would be touching him in a way that wasn’t sinful. And Connor wanted that sinful touch more than he could let himself admit. 

He stretched and yawned, wincing as his body popped and cracked into shape. He slowly climbed up onto the bed, laying in the warm spot left by Murphy. He curled into a ball, inhaled Murphy’s sent on his pillow and sighed.

 

Murphy debated on just going to his room and falling asleep. He knew that he could sneak in, and Steve would never even waken. He could make up some story about how he had found a place to crash the night before, maybe even lie about a conquest he had made. His heart told him otherwise, and before he knew it, he was back in front of Connor’s door. He let himself in, and his heart leapt as he saw Connor on the bed. Suddenly everything he had said flooded back into his brain, and he leaned back against the closed door, heart thumping.

He saw Connor’s eyes flick open as the door closed. Murphy cleared his throat. “Hey. Uh, thanks for lettin’ me crash here. Appreciate it.”

“What else is family for?” Connor asked, sitting up, then wincing as he remembered. 

“Fuck, Connor, m’so sorry,” Murphy blurted out, walking over to the bed and kneeling at Connor’s feet. “I didn’t mean any o’ what I said. Was drunk an’ stupid, babblin’ stupid shite. Didn’t mean it. M’so glad your me brother, glad I have some family now that Da’s gone.”

“Shh, Murph, it’s okay.” Connor smiled, but it wasn’t his normal smile, the one that crinkled his eyes and lit them up. “I understand. Bein’ drunk can make ya say some stuff ya don’t mean.”

“But I meant it when I said I loved ya,” Murphy said. “We can’t go on like this, Connor. We need ta come to a decision.”

“What are our options?” Connor asked. “Only one. We go on like before…like ya said. Like I never got ya outta that alley.”

“I don’t WANT to,” Murphy interrupted. “We have other options. I could leave.”

“Leave?” Connor stared down at him. “Where…where would ya go?”

“The guys Da worked with in Chicago asked me ta come back if I wanted…they could use me,” Murphy said.

“No. Absolutely fuckin’ not,” Connor said savagely. “Are ya insane? Yer NOT goin’ back there, where people get killed. No. I won’t let ya.”

Murphy smiled to himself. He had wanted to see Connor’s reaction before he voiced the second option. “Then we just do it.”

“Do what?”

“We…we stay together. Really together. Like we were.” Murphy moved to sit next to Connor.

“Murphy…we…we can’t!” Connor gasped, though it was what he wanted most in the world. “I hate ta say it yet again, but it’s WRONG.”

“No one would know,” Murphy said. “No one but you an’ I know that we’re…what we are.” Even though he was the one making the suggestion, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “An’ I don’t know about you, but I don’t know what it’s like ta have a brother, anyway. What’s tha difference between brotherly love an’ tha way I’d feel about a lover?”

“Well, most brothers sure as shite aren’t fuckin’,” Connor said bluntly, and Murphy blushed a bit.

“Well, true. But ya have ta admit, we’re not exactly like most brothers ta begin with,” Murphy pointed out. “I think we’d even shock that Sally Jesse Raphael.”

Connor snorted. “It’s just…”

“Do ya love me, Connor?” Murphy whispered.

“Christ, how can ya even ask such a thing?” Connor said. 

“I learned a while back that ya sometimes have ta sacrifice what everyone else says is right, ta do what yer heart knows is right,” Murphy said. “I know that sounds strange, like m’some sort of preacher or somethin’, but it’s true. I know it’s goin’ against what God an’ people think, but who would we really be hurtin’?” He gave Connor a small smile. “I know ya want ta be a lawyer, an’ upholdin’ tha law means doin’ what’s right. But this…this is right for us.”

“Smecker said somethin’ ta me once…said that tha right side isn’t always tha legal side. That the side ya know is right isn’t always tha one that’ll win.” Connor looked Murphy in the eye. “Guess that applies here, huh?” He reached over and took Murphy’s hand. “All I know is that I can’t live without ya, Murph. Can’t deal with ya bein’ so close yet just outta reach. But I can’t let ya leave.”

Murphy cupped Connor’s face in his hands, and this time Connor didn’t pull away. He leaned into the kiss, a kiss that was the most intense either of them had ever experienced.


	38. Chapter 38

HOME  
Thirty-Eight

 

Murphy let his hands slide up into Connor’s hair, holding the fine strands tightly as his mouth moved over Connor’s again and again. “Missed ya so much,” he gasped when they finally came up for air. “Missed the taste an’ smell an’ feel o’ ya.”

“Aye,” Connor murmured, shivering a bit as Murphy’s lips slid down the side of his neck. He tilted his head, letting Murphy lick down along throat. “It’s been a fuckin’ nightmare…I don’t see how I lived without ya until now.” He grabbed Murphy’s shirt at the hem, yanking and pulling until Murphy wriggled out of it. Connor’s hands slid across Murphy’s flat stomach, palming up and over the hard nipples.

“Connor,” Murphy whispered. “Feel like I could come right fuckin’ now, then do it again an’ again.”

“Good. My thoughts exactly,” Connor said with a wicked grin. He pulled away from Murphy, kneeling on the ground just as Murphy had been moments before. He slowly pushed at Murphy’s chest until Murphy went down on his back. “You just lay there. I want ta learn ya all over again.”

“Ya forgot already?” Murphy teased, but the words ended in a hiss as the heel of Connor’s hand pressed through his jeans.

“Hardly,” Connor said with a snort. His nimble fingers made short work of the rest of Murphy’s clothing, and he could only look down at the gorgeous naked figure in front of him. “Never thought I’d have ya here on my bed again like this,” he whispered in awe. “Thought about it, dreamt about it…”

“Connor,” Murphy moaned, his voice throaty with need. Connor ran his hands up the top of Murphy’s thighs, his mouth and tongue following at a much slower pace. He nibbled up the inside of Murphy’s legs, letting his tongue swipe long hot strokes as he got closer and closer to what he was truly aiming for. “Tryin’…ta kill me?”

“No. Never,” Connor promised. “Maybe drive ya insane, that’s all.” Murphy’s hands clawed at Connor’s shoulders until he had Connor’s t-shirt bunched up practically at his neck. Connor pulled back and yanked it off, then continued his slow exploration of Murphy’s body. He let his fingers walk up every rib, occasionally moving down excruciatingly close to the hard cock that throbbed for him. “So hot…” Connor mumbled as he sucked on a hipbone.

Murphy moaned and thrust up a bit, his cock brushing against the side of Connor’s head. “Ya want me ta shoot in yer hair? Ya just keep that up,” he warned, fingernails digging half-moons into Connor’s shoulders.

“No. Want ya ta shoot on me tongue…” Connor licked a sharp line up Murphy’s cock. “In me mouth…” Connor gently sucked on the head. “Down me throat…” He took Murphy all the way in before drawing back completely.

“Yes, oh yes, Connor…” Murphy’s hands fisted in Connor’s hair, urging him to go back down again.

“An’ then I’ll kiss all over tha rest of ya, ‘til yer hard again, an’ then m’gonna fuck ya ‘til ya come,” Connor promised, though he wondered if he could truly hold out that long. Just the taste of Murphy’s skin was driving him mad, almost to the boiling point. He slid his hands under Murphy’s ass, bringing his body up to where Connor’s hungry mouth was waiting.

“Yes yes yes,” Murphy babbled, his hips snapping up in search of Connor’s hot mouth. He moaned as Connor took him in, Connor allowing his body to set the pace while letting Murphy take control of his mouth. “So good…missed this…fuck yes…”

Connor’s hands moved a bit on Murphy’s ass, letting a finger just rest against Murphy’s opening. He would not venture inside without the aide of some lube, but he liked the thought of teasing Murphy that way. Every time Murphy let his hips relax, it moved Connor’s finger a little closer. Connor opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue run along the length of Murphy’s cock. He could feel his own cock throbbing in his sweatpants, and he rubbed a bit against the edge of the bed.

“Connor…m’gonna come…Connor…” Murphy arched up hard, thrusting into Connor’s mouth. Connor moaned slightly, letting Murphy use his mouth hard and rough as he came.

Connor pulled back once Murphy relaxed, licking his lips. “That’s what I wanted, Murph…needed that.” He slowly kissed his way up Murphy’s stomach and chest, licking the soft sheen of sweat that he found there. “Was it what ya needed?”

“Fuck,” was all Murphy could say. Connor smiled. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Connor pulled back and took off his pants. He took Murphy by the knees and tugged at his body, rolling him over. Murphy allowed himself to be flipped over, his body heavy with satisfaction. “Are ya sleepy?” Connor teased. “We can continue this later…”

“Shut up,” Murphy mumbled into the pillow. “Just gimme a minute.”

“Gonna give you more than that,” Connor said. He caressed Murphy’s legs, relearning every inch of the toned body. His thumbs pressed down, and Murphy moaned at the gentle massage. “Yer so fuckin’ gorgeous,” Connor whispered. He licked his way up Murphy’s spine, letting his tongue worship every groove and dip of bone. He bit down at Murphy’s neck, smiling at the resulting hiss. “Taste so good…” He allowed himself to rest over Murphy’s body, trying not to immediately rock against him. Murphy spread his legs a bit, and Connor’s cock settled down at the base of Murphy’s ass. “Fuckin’ tease.”

“No, THIS would be teasin’ ya,” Murphy corrected, thrusting back a bit so Connor rubbed against him.

“Fucker,” Connor growled, biting down again. He thrust hard for good measure, then got up to find a condom and lube. When he came back to the bed, Murphy was on his back again, slowly stroking his half-hard cock. “Now that’s somethin’ I could watch for hours,” Connor commented.

“Well, we’ll do that someday,” Murphy told him. “Maybe you’ll wake up an’ be tied ta tha bed. I’ll be on a chair, wankin’, an’ you’ll only be able ta watch.” Connor moaned. “Oh, didn’t know ya were such a voyeur, Conn. Would that make ya hot, watchin’ me get off when ya can’t even touch me?”

“Murphy,” Connor almost whined. Murphy sat up, his mouth attacking Connor’s skin. He grabbed Connor by the waist with one hand as the other stroked Connor’s cock, his mouth licking and sucking Connor’s stomach and anywhere else he could reach. Connor panted for breath, steadying himself with a hand on Murphy’s head. Murphy grabbed the condom from Connor, tearing it open with his teeth. He slid it down on Connor’s hard cock, then took the lube. 

“Just wait a second,” Murphy whispered, taking the lube as well. He slowly lay back on the bed, got some lube on his fingers, and slowly worked them inside of himself.

“Holy fuck,” Connor whispered.

“Just getting’ ready fer ya…want ya so bad…you’ll wanna go gentle, an’ I don’t have tha patience for that just now,” Murphy told him. His back bowed as he hit just the right spot, and Connor could take it no more.

“I don’t have much patience m’self,” Connor told him. He crawled up Murphy’s body, taking his time before he reached his destination. Both of them sighed into the kiss as Connor slowly took Murphy’s hand and pulled it away. He felt Murphy’s legs bend, then Murphy’s hand was on his cock, slowly guiding him inside. “Ah, Christ,” Connor mumbled, resting his head on Murphy’s chest. Murphy’s hand rested on the small of his back, slowly pressing, controlling the speed and depth of Connor’s thrusts. Only when Murphy’s hand slid up to cup the back of Connor’s neck did Connor really let go, thrusting long and hard.

“Ya feel so good…Connor…” Murphy moaned, taking Connor’s bottom lip between his teeth and gently biting down.

“Murphy…” Connor could only gasp. He pulled away from Murphy’s mouth so he could look into his brother’s eyes. His brother. He knew this was truly a sin now; nothing that felt this good could be anything but sinful. “I love ya, Murphy. Love ya so much.”

Murphy gasped as Connor hitched his hips a bit and hit that deep sweet spot. He slid a hand between them, pulling at his now-hardened cock. “Love you, too…Connor…” 

Connor wanted to wait, wanted to make sure that Murphy was as close as he was, but the sensations were too much. He had waited too long for this, dreamt of it too many nights, got himself off too many times with Murphy’s name on his lips. He thrust at an erratic pace, hands moving up to dig into Murphy’s biceps as he came. Connor’s entire body shuddered, his mouth moving over Murphy’s sweaty forehead, whispering words that Murphy couldn’t hear nor was he meant to.

Murphy arched up into the slamming thrust, the second orgasm threatening just behind Connor’s. He felt Connor’s fingers dig into his shoulders, and that was all it took to send him falling hard after Connor. Murphy wrapped his arms around Connor, holding him close, feeling Connor plant gentle kisses on his face. “That…that was…”

“Aye,” Connor answered, understanding the sentiment that could not truly be expressed in words.


	39. Chapter 39

HOME  
Thirty-Nine

 

Murphy dozed for a short time, awakening to the feather-light touch of Connor’s fingers on his face. “Mmm,” he moaned softly. “That feels good.”

“Didn’t mean ta waken ya,” Connor said, though he wasn’t sorry he had. 

“You okay?” Murphy blinked owlishly.

“Yeah. Ya slept for about a half hour. I couldn’t.” Connor blushed a bit. “I was afraid this was like a dream, that I’d wake up an’ ya’d be gone.”

“M’not goin’ anywhere, Conn. Ever again.” Murphy leaned over and kissed Connor’s nose, making him giggle. He pulled the covers up tighter over them both, then reached over to lock his fingers with Connor’s.

“I don’t know how to feel,” Connor confessed. “M’so fuckin’ happy, but m’scared, too. Paranoid, I guess. Like lightnin’s gonna strike us any minute now.”

“I didn’t mean ta force ya into anythin’, Conn. If you’re uncomfortable, we can…I can…” Murphy couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but he would if Connor wanted it. “I’ll leave ya alone.”

“NO.” Connor pulled at Murphy’s hand, causing Murphy to tumble over him. Connor gave him a long, deep kiss. “I can’t lose ya again, Murph. It’s like I lost a part of me I never knew I needed til I met ya.”

“Aye,” Murphy said, smiling down at him. “I don’t WANT ta leave ya, Conn. Ya know that. But I don’t want ya miserable.”

Connor shrugged. “Just feel like we’re breakin’ some sort o’ secret law. No one will know, but WE’LL know.”

“I feel the same way, Connor. We’re only human. We’ve been brought up ta feel that love like this is very, very wrong.” Murphy moved onto his back again, sighing. His fingers stayed locked with Connor’s, and he brought Connor’s hand to his lips for a brief moment, lightly sucking on a knuckle. “Do ya think God really wants us wastin’ away from grief, just because we can’t be tagether? Just because of some freak of genetics that made us related?”

“I don’t even try ta think about what God wants, Murph,” Connor scolded lightly. “Not our place ta try that. It’d be makin’ excuses. An’ I refuse ta do that. It’s just how it is. I love you. I don’t know how ta love ya like a brother. M’not sure what that means.” Connor thought for a moment, trying to remember brothers that he had known as a child. “If I go by what I’ve seen in other families, it means I pick on ya a lot, act like I hate ya, but secretly I’d die for ya.” He smiled, a sweet grin that lit up his whole face. “Actually, that sounds just like how I treat ya anyway.”

Murphy laughed out loud, a sound that rang like music in Connor’s ears. “Aye, I guess we’ve already got this brother thing down.” He sighed. “I understand why it’s wrong, in the eyes of society an’ tha church. But wouldn’t it be worse if we were sister an’ brother?”

“Ya don’t have ta justify it ta ME, Murphy,” Connor said. He reached over and smoothed at the worry lines on Murphy’s forehead. “No one knows. That’s that.” Connor rolled to glance at the clock. “Fuck. Three a.m.?” He rolled back to Murphy, kissing him. “I’m just wonderin’ how good an actor ya are.”

“Why?”

“Well, when we go back ta Ireland, we’re gonna have ta really watch. We’re supposed ta barely know each other, except as friends. We can’t let on that…”

“Wait.” Murphy held up a hand and sat up. “What do ya mean, when we go back ta Ireland?”

“For tha summer. You’re comin’ home with me, Murph.” Connor looked at Murphy as if he were crazy. “It’s your home, too, now.” Connor looked worried. “Unless, uh, ya were goin’ somewhere else, had other plans.”

“Fuck, no, I didn’t have other plans,” Murphy said with a crazy grin on his face. “I just…didn’t know if ya’d want ta have me along. I mean, I want ta meet her someday, but I didn’t want ya ta feel like ya had ta share her right off, on your summer break.”

“Of course I want ya there, Murphy.” Connor kissed him as punctuation. “I can’t bear tha thought of life without ya for all those weeks, anyway.”

Murphy burrowed down under the covers, pulling Connor close. “It’s a long time away, Conn. Right now I just want ta go ta sleep wrapped around ya.”

Connor yawned, smiling sleepily. “Aye…m’self as well.”

 

When Murphy awakened six hours later, he was still wrapped around Connor, Connor’s face pressed tight against his chest. Murphy stretched and Connor mewed a bit, snuggling closer. “I need ta get up, Conn. Need a cigarette, need ta go back an’ leave a note for Steve.”

“No,” Connor mumbled, holding on tighter.

“M’gonna go get breakfast,” Murphy cajoled. “Coffee and donuts?”

“Hurry back,” Connor said, immediately releasing him. Murphy snickered and kissed his forehead.

“Bribed by pastries. Yer so easy.”

“Just for you,” Connor said, rolling over and closing his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Conn.” Murphy sighed as he looked down at Connor. He had never felt this kind of love for anyone in his life, not even his father. But it felt so right.

Murphy got up and got dressed and headed for his room. He let himself in as quietly as possible. Steve was still snoring in his bed, and Murphy tiptoed around, gathering his shower things and a change of clothes. Of course, the quieter he tried to be, the more things he knocked over and crashed into. “Is there a fire?” Steve said through his pillow.

“No. Just me, Steve. Was gonna leave ya a note.”

“That’s a pretty noisy note.” Steve sat up, red hair going every direction at once. “Was a little worried about you…”

“I know. I didn’t expect ta be out all night.” Murphy smiled. He couldn’t help it. He knew it was probably more of a shit-eating grin than a smile. 

Steve smiled back. “You got lucky.”

“Well, first I got drunk off me ass. THEN I got lucky.” Murphy’s smile faded. “I’m, uh…Connor an’ I…we’re back t’gether.”

“Murphy, that is such a big mistake,” Steve said with a sigh. 

“I know what I’m doin’, Steve.” Murphy tried not to get angry. Steve was just being a good friend. “You have ta trust me on this.”

“I do, Murphy.” Steve yawned and laid back down. “See you later?”

“Much later,” Murphy said. “I don’t know what we’re doing today.”

“Whatever it is, I better not hear it coming from your bed,” Steve said, and Murphy laughed.

 

Murphy toweled his hair dry as he walked down the hall, whistling as he went. He was looking forward to doing nothing all day but being with Connor. He didn’t even care what they did, because they’d be together. He scrubbed his head vigorously, not really looking where he was going. He let out an “oof” when he collided with someone.

“Sorry. I…” Murphy’s eyes widened as he lowered the towel. “Oh. Smecker. Um, hey.” 

Smecker’s eyes were full of amusement, the vicious sort. “Mr. MacManus. I was actually looking for you. Care to come talk to me for a second?”

“I, well, see, Connor’s waiting, and…” Murphy babbled.

Smecker grabbed Murphy by the arm and started to propel him towards Smecker’s room. “This will only take a second, and then I’ll release you to your little friend.” Smecker let Murphy walk into the room, then closed the door, leaning back against it. “So.”

“Okay, Smecker, just wait a second, all right? I wasn’t in me right mind last night,” Murphy began, gripping the towel in both hands and twisting.

“Oh, so, anyone who wants to fuck me isn’t in their right mind?” Smecker folded his arms over his chest.

“No, that’s not what I said. I was drunk, an’ I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. I didn’t WANT ta fuck you.” Smecker raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I did,” Murphy confessed. “At least I think I did last night.”

“Oh, so you’ve never thought about it before?” Smecker asked.

If Murphy wouldn’t have been so embarrassed, he would have noticed that Smecker was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. He didn’t notice, however, and kept trying to rectify the situation. “Okay, well, maybe. I guess I’ve never really paid much attention ta ya that way.”

“I see.” Smecker nodded seriously. “If I remember correctly, you said that sex with you would be worth me losing my job.”

“It would!” Murphy protested. “But I didn’t MEAN it.”

“I’m beginning to get a little confused here, Murphy,” Smecker said. “First you want me, then you don’t. First you’re worth me losing my job, and now you look like this is the LAST place you want to be.”

“Don’t fuck with me like this,” Murphy pleaded.

Smecker laughed out loud, finally taking pity on him. “Okay, MacManus, relax. I’m just jerking your chain. I actually needed to tell you about some work that needs done. You DO still work here, right?”

“Yes, you fucker,” Murphy growled, twisting the towel and threatening to snap Smecker with it.

“Don’t even think about it, you little bastard,” Smecker warned. He handed Murphy a piece of paper. “Here’s the request. Try to stop fucking like bunnies long enough to take care of it, okay?”

“How did you…”

“It’s written all over your face, Murphy. Plus the fact that I can tell you’re just itching to get back to him…” Smecker grew serious. “You mentioned last night that things were bad…there were reasons you couldn’t be together?”

“We worked all that out,” Murphy said quickly. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Smecker clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re an annoying little shit, MacManus, but I like you.”

“I take that as the highest compliment,” Murphy said, laughing as he went out the door.


	40. Chapter 40

HOME  
Forty

 

“It’s probably good that I’m quittin’,” Murphy said, banging his head on the wall of their dorm building. “I’m not ready ta be a scholar, I don’t think. These finals are gonna fuckin’ drain my brain.”

“You’re not quittin’,” Connor corrected, giving Murphy’s shoulder a quick squeeze. It was the most affection he felt comfortable giving outside of their dorm rooms. It was becoming quite obvious that they were more than friends; they were always together, bound at the hip. They were not overtly romantic with one another, however, except in front of their close friends. No need to create any more drama. They had more than enough of that privately. “Ya just need ta think it over. I’ll convince ya ta come back in tha fall.”

“You think pretty highly of your negotiatin’ skills, m’thinkin’,” Murphy said with a grin.

“Let’s just say I know what it takes ta make ya do what I say,” Connor said very quietly, even though no one was around them.

“Fuck, ya know what it does ta me when ya talk like that,” Murphy moaned softly, hitting his head on the bricks once more.

“Exactly.” Connor grinned and backed away as Steve, Will and Jacob came strolling towards the dorm. 

“Evil fucker,” Murphy scowled, walking away, kicking at a stone.

“What’s his problem?” Jacob asked Connor.

“No clue,” Connor said, his face a mask of innocence.

“Tha hell, ya piece of shite!” Murphy yelled back. Connor laughed, as did Jacob and Will, even though they had no clue what the joke was.

“Hey, Connor!” Someone called from a few yards away.

Connor turned around. “Hey, Joey!” He turned to his dormmates. “I’ll be right back.” He strode over to where Joey and Alan were walking.

Murphy came over to his friends, finishing his cigarette and carefully stomping it out before tossing it in a nearby trashcan. “I’m fuckin’ starvin’. All this studyin’ is sappin’ all my energy.”

“No, you’re just a hog,” Steve said, and Murphy pretended to hit him. 

“I think I need something other than pizza,” Will griped. “I think I’ll scream if I see one more slice.”

“C’mon, Will. Pizza’s the dinner of mental champions,” Jacob said.

“No, it’s just cheap and fast and doesn’t require us actually leaving our fucking desks,” Will retorted. “How about burgers? We’ll splurge…actually go get WAITED on.”

“That diner in town has great sandwiches,” Murphy volunteered. “Connor an’ I go there all that time.”

“Aw, is that where you have your little romantic interludes?” Jacob teased. 

“Would you like me ta tell ya all about our little romantic interludes?” Murphy asked, smiling sweetly.

“NO!” Jacob and Will answered together.

Murphy looked at Steve, who was studying him carefully. He knew that Steve still wasn’t quite comfortable around Connor. Murphy desperately wished that he could tell his best friend the truth, tell him that there was nothing to worry about. He wanted to explain that he and Connor were connected in a way that could never be broken, and that there would be no more heartache in the future. He couldn’t say all this, of course, but still tried, as discreetly as possible, to bring up all of Connor’s positive points and show how good a person he could be. “I agree with the burger idea. What do ya think, Steve?”

“I think you should come with us,” Steve blurted.

Murphy stared at him, as did Jacob and Will. “Come where?”

“Into the city. Those few nights after finals.”

Murphy continued to stare, though his mouth slowly turned up into a broad grin. “Are ya serious?”

Before he and Connor had reconnected, the four of them had been talking about going into Boston for a night or two, to celebrate the end of their freshman year. Nothing had been said about inviting Connor, and Murphy wasn’t even sure that Steve wanted HIM along.

“Yes, I’m serious. This is insane. You love him, he loves you. I don’t quite get it, but hey, I don’t see me in any sort of relationship that gives me the right to judge,” Steve said. “We’ll just get two rooms, because God knows I don’t want to be anywhere near the two of you at night.”

“We don’t have ta stay together,” Murphy said quickly. He really didn’t care. He had the rest of his life to sleep next to Connor. “We can split up, maybe me an’ you an Will, an’ Connor can share with Jacob or somethin’.”

“That’s crazy,” Steve replied, Will and Jacob nodding with him. “The three of us can share, and then you and Connor have your own room.”

Murphy opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Connor’s return. “Sorry about that…they have early finals an’ I probably won’t see them again before end of term.” Connor looked at Murphy. “Are we goin’ ta eat now?”

“What would you think about spendin’ a day or two in tha city with these guys before we get on tha plane?”

Connor blinked. Murphy had mentioned in passing that the others were considering something like this, but hadn’t said anything about going along. Connor could tell, though, that Murphy desperately wanted to be included. “Sure, you should do that. It’d be fun for ya. We could hook up…”

“No, Connor, all of us. All five,” Steve interrupted. 

Connor looked at Murphy, whose face was one bright smile. “Sure, of course. Thanks for invitin’ me.”

“Can we PLEASE eat now?” Murphy whined as his stomach growled. “We can discuss all this while shoving burgers inta our mouths.”

“Aye, ya big baby, let’s go,” Connor said. He bumped his hip against Murphy’s as they started to walk. It was a seemingly innocent movement, but said volumes to Murphy.

 

The last few weeks of classes flew by, and suddenly it was finals week. Contrary to his dramatic self-abuse outside the dorm, Murphy did well on his tests and knew it. He realized he’d never be the intellectual Connor was, though, never be into studying and reading like Connor. He was action, not thought, and wondered maybe if it wasn’t better off that way. 

He and Connor put most of their things into storage, planning on getting some sort of housing off campus the next semester. Smecker had promised to find them something, though he also threatened to move in with them as well, to keep them chaperoned. Connor, who was learning to like Smecker as much as Murphy did, quickly pointed out that Smecker was no kind of chaperone, and earned himself a slap to the back of the head from his “Dorm Daddy.”

Jacob had one of the last finals, and after he blew into the dorm, screaming with relief, they called a few cabs, piled their bags into the trunk, and headed for the bus terminal. They took a bus into the city, heading for the rooms that Connor had insisted on paying for. “That’s why I keep him around,” Murphy told the others. “He’s like one of those sugar daddies.”

“Keep it up, Murph, an’ you’ll be out on your arse, whorin’ for change,” Connor had growled. 

“Ah, Pretty, ya know ya couldn’t bear ta live without me,” Murphy retorted sweetly, pinching Connor’s cheek.

 

Now it was the day before they were due to leave for Ireland, and Murphy was alone in the tiny coffee shop of the hotel, smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. They had spent the first night gallivanting around Boston and generally assing off. The day before had been full of things like a Red Sox game and a movie. This day was for anything they wanted, and Murphy and Connor planned on getting away from the others, for at least a few hours. Boston was where they had really gotten together, and though neither of them would admit it out loud, they both were feeling a little sentimental about it.

“Hey. You’re up early.” Steve sat down across from him and turned the coffee cup up on its saucer. A waitress appeared immediately and poured his coffee. “Pancakes and bacon,” he told her. She nodded and went away. “Thought from the noise of the headboard hitting the wall, you’d be up all night.”

“You’re full of shite,” Murphy snapped. “We weren’t doin’ anythin’ that noisy.”

Steve snickered. “You’re blushing.”

“Besides, those headboards are attached ta tha wall. They don’t move,” Murphy mumbled, and Steve laughed out loud.

“So…everything okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, fine.” Murphy couldn’t say that he was nervous as hell about going with Connor to Ireland. He couldn’t say that he was about to meet the mother he never knew, and that it scared the living shit out of him. “Just excited about goin’ ta Ireland,” he said truthfully. “Never been. Connor’s been goin’ on an’ on about all he wants ta show ta me.”

“Sounds exciting,” Steve agreed. “He’s okay, Murph,” he said suddenly. “He really seems to love you, and that’s all that matters. Never thought I’d say this about two guys…but what you have, I’m jealous of it. You two are really…”

“Connected?” Murphy replied with a wry grin. “There’s a lot ya don’t know about us, Steve, an’ trust me, ya don’t want ta know. You’ll find yer Connor someday.”

“I don’t WANT a Connor,” Steve said, shuddering.

“An’ why not?” Connor said from behind him, only catching the last sentence of the conversation. He flicked Steve on the back of the head before sitting next to Murphy. “Missed you.” Connor glanced around the empty restaurant before giving Murphy a brief peck on the lips.

“I think you should leave an’ come back in again,” Murphy said almost dreamily. “I like hellos like that.”

“You are gonna make me vomit and I haven’t even eaten yet,” Steve moaned. Murphy laughed.

“Just kiddin’, Steve. Conn, Steve was sayin’ how jealous he is of our perfect relationship.”

“I did NOT say that!”

“An’ I said he’d find his Connor someday, and he said he didn’t want one,” Murphy continued.

“I meant I don’t want a GUY. Christ, you’re an asshole, Murphy,” Steve grumbled.

Connor laughed. “Don’t worry, Steve. Our Murph’s just been takin’ lessons in arsehole from Smecker.”

“And he’s getting good,” Steve replied.

Connor pulled away from Murphy as the waitress approached, though he kept his leg against Murphy’s throughout the rest of their breakfast.

 

“You two have a really safe trip,” Will said as they stood outside Connor and Murphy’s gate at the airport. He was flying home as well, so they had waited together after arriving at the airport. “Bring us something from Ireland, like real Irish ale.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Murphy said, chuckling. They chatted a bit longer before Will headed away in search of his own gate.

They headed for one of the tiny shops to buy food for the flight, as well as magazines and a few other things. Connor stared at the condoms behind the counter, realizing that where they were going, they wouldn’t be using anything like that, ever. “May I help you?” The clerk asked.

“Uh, no thanks,” Connor said, backing away.

“You okay, Conn?” Murphy’s blue eyes were full of concern. “Ya just went white…I didn’t know ya could get that pale.”

“I, uh, just realized somethin’, that’s all,” Connor said quietly. “We…once we’re off that plane, we have ta be totally different people.”

“I thought ya were okay with this, Connor,” Murphy said. “It’s a little late for second thoughts.”

“M’not havin’ second thoughts,” Connor promised. “Just hit me, that’s all. I guess…I guess I was spoiled, gettin’ ta be how I wanted around ya here. We can’t do that in Ireland, not even in private.”

“Are ya tellin’ me ya don’t know any dark corners an’ secluded spots where I might get a kiss or two?” Murphy teased, trying to cheer Connor up. “If ya can’t think o’ even ONE place, well, then, I’m thinkin’ yer not my real brother. MY brother would know how ta be sneaky.”

“I know a place or two,” Connor retorted. He stomped on Murphy’s foot when he saw Murphy’s smile. “You’re an arse.”

“But ya love me.” Murphy headed back to the counter to pay for his things.

“Aye, I sure as fuck do,” Connor whispered to himself.

 

They boarded the plane, and were mercifully placed in one of the window rows in the front, which meant there were only two seats side by side, not three. They fought over the window seat, until Connor tumbled Murphy into the seat on the aisle, whispering dirty words in Murphy’s ear until he blushed red. Everyone around them smiled in understanding as Connor said, “He’s me brother. It’s me job ta rough him up a bit, ya know.”

Once the plane was in the air, Connor settled down, head against a pillow he had propped against the window. He was snuggled under a blanket, fast asleep, his fingers twined with Murphy’s under the scratchy wool. Murphy looked at the magazine in his lap, though he didn’t see a word of it. He was going home, though the only home he’d ever need was right next to him, snoring away under a well-worn green airline blanket.

THE END


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